Between Fairytales and Happy Endings
by I am Pentangle
Summary: Life goes on as per usual at Elm Tree House, but cracks start to appear when a not so timely arrival dredges up old memories and shows that some scars are rawer than first thought. The past is about to catch up with Elektra but how can life ever go back to how it once was?
1. White

**A/N: Hey, I admittedly don't have much to say at the moment except I hope you enjoy the story.  
**

**Disclaimer: All original content belongs to its orginal creators.**

I've had a dim recognition of this for the past couple of days now. It's not like I ever think about it often though. It's kinda like gravity, it's there, but you're never really thought about it. It just, kinda, happens.

I'd guess you'd only ever notice it if it broke.

These things usually happen over the dull breakfast scrabble, and today was no exception.

"Well, I don't know, can't she share with Carmen or Tee until we get this sorted with the council?"

"It's not like we have the space anyway."

That's definitely Mike and Gina, having a _professional disagreement_ again no doubt.

"Look, this girl's been shunted around an awful lot; it's the council's decision, not mine."

"And what has that got anything to do with anything?"

"Listen, Gina..."

"What girl?" Jody piped up.

"And why do I have to share with her?" Carmen objected.

Typical. Bloody typical...not that I'm in a position really to start hurling dirt clods, but, eh, it's what I do best. Beside, they're too thick here to notice me contradicting myself.

There's a brief pause before Mike wanders over and stands at the head of the table that same tired concern etched over his features, he starts to address us.

"Guys listen, there's a new arriving, Emily, so..."

Rick cuts across, "...so try not to scare her off."

"We've been here long enough; I think we know the drill by now." Tee added.

Hmm, Emily? Could be anyone I suppose. New people come and go. No skin off my back.

"So what's the new girl like then?" Faith asked, still optimistic I see?

"Well, she around fifteen..." Mike began, before the typical wall of noise erupts.

"Where's she from?"

"What kinda things does she like?"

"Is she another nutter?"

"That's not very nice..."

"Is she fit?"

"Johnny!"

"He has got a point..."

"Good to see you're having a good influence..."

"I still don't see why I have to share with her!"

"Mike said I might have to share with her..."

"That's not the point..."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Mike finally managing to stop the tide of yapping, "You can get to know her all you want when she arrives this afternoon, but until then, less of the questions."

The general rumble of breakfast resumes and Mike goes off to continue arguing with Gina.

When I think about this new girl, actually...meh, probably just another slack-jawed moron, they don't come all that different 'round here.

But then again, and again, if you think about it...things only really come to bite at a later point. Things are annoying like that. They never bite when you expect them to, and when they bite, they kinda don't...

I never knew I could spout such bullshit, for God's sake...

* * *

The morning slipped away, like drinking wall-paper paste. Dull, flemy, grim, grey, something like that anyway. I was minding my own business, as per usual, sitting in the living room, legs hooked over the scrolled sofa arm, reading, I can't quite remember what, it was something, just leave it as that.

You kinda get used to people going at speeds which would either be reserved for fires or psychopathic axe killers, it's kinda desensitising. Yet, there are some things you still notice, like the spring in someone's step, or an overly excited expression.

Voices start echoing down the corridor from beyond the glass partition.

"What's with her? Those pinky eyes and white hair are really weird! She looks like a rat!"

"That's a bit harsh, she's hardly that bad."

"Weren't you going on about sharing a room with her earlier?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Jody, are you sure you're not thinking of those white mice they use in labs and in magic acts, not rats?"

The new girl's an albino? Well...

Tyler, Carmen and Jody came charging round the corner drawing the sudden attention of the room. I try to blank.

"Hey guys," Carmen started, "the new girl's just turned up, and she's in the hall."

"She's called Emily right?" came Tee's voice.

Idiot. You do realise Mike said that at breakfast.

"No she's not!"

Eh?

Jody continued with her typical lack of indoor voice, "She really called White or something like that!"

It must be her surname, it has to be.

"Are you sure that's not her surname?" Faith asked.

I said that before...well, I thought it, but that's not the point!

"I'm not lying!"

"Yeah," interrupted Tyler, "she really is called White."

I then became aware of every eye in the room on me, every eye tunnelling into my brain. It was a bit of an odd reaction when you think of it, to drop my book with a clunk like an exclamation mark. I couldn't really help it, as I said before, things coming to bite.

"Elektra?"

All I manage is some kind of cough, a growl at the back of my throat, and a, when looking at it, suspect quick walk to escape what felt like the angry red specs of laser sights.

I don't quite get it; I thought I was supposed to be more confrontational than that.

It feels like a bit of my brain just broke.

I need my...I need my breathing space, yeah, my room, yeah. Wait, didn't Carmen say she was in the hall...ah fuck.

She's definitely an albino this _White_, her hair scruffy at the sides and long down the back, androgynous, stiff breeze would snap her in half figure, pink eyes lost in a milky fug.

Move before...

"Ah, Elektra, this is..."

I had hit the upstairs landing before Mike had finished his sentence.

I think the rest of the afternoon is going to consist of a game of stare aggressive at the furniture. The art is to hope nobody notices. This has to blow over at some point, she can't stay, there's not enough room...

Jesus Christ I hope they don't notice.


	2. A Return

******Disclaimer: All original content belongs to its orginal creators.**

_The fug, the synaesthesia fug slowly slopes away, leaking from my ears, throat, eyes._

_My arms hitched out, spread-eagle, straps pinning my joints._

_The surgeon's light flares on, imprinting itself on the back of my eyeballs._

_My body goes into shock._

_Throat muscles clench like a fist, my core going cold._

_There's a chattering laugh somewhere in the darkness. But then, they emerge, and leer, leer over me comatose upon the slab._

_The hyenas, the hyenas in their red-splashed surgical greens, face masks covering fanged mouths, scalpels and bone-saws clutched awkwardly in paws._

_The straps, the straps so tight as I squirmed against the leather, cold sweat breaking out, twisting on the slab._

_I was completely trapped._

_Flashes of razor-edges reaching down to my belly, cutting sharp red lines..._

_I scream._

Thud.

I suddenly become aware of the tickly, scratchy carpet rubbing against my gullet and collar bones. My back objects as I find myself spread-eagle with my torso lumped on the floor. My legs are twisted up on the bed, tangled in the sheets.

I've been in more comfortable positions.

I thought, I thought those bloody nightmares had stopped; I haven't had one since...and Faith is awake and staring at me, propped up on the heels of her hands, expression a mixture of shock and exasperation.

"Elektra, what are you doing?"

"What are you doing?"

I inwardly cringe, what the hell was that supposed to mean?

"What? I'm sorry, you just started thrashing around and then you screamed the place down before falling out of bed, so what are you doing?"

I can't really explain that one, but it's not like a really want to anyway...wait, I screamed the place down? In my sleep? Ah bloody hell...and yes, either there's an elephant nobody's told me about or the unwashed masses are about to come crashing through that door in five, four, three, two, one...

The door clicks.

"Wha...what's going on?"

The figure of Mike inches around the door, framed by the light of the hallway. Behind him stands a gaggle of pyjama and dressing-gown clad figures huddled together. Sniggering. God, I am gonna get this in the neck hard tomorrow.

"Elektra..."

Un-tangle legs, up, slam the door in his face. A series of giggles rumble from the other side of the door, my blood sudden becomes like molten magma.

Mike's voice echoes from the other side, "Alright you lot, bed!"

It's a few minutes before silence falls as I lie, staring at the quivering shadows on the ceiling, knees jutting out at odd angles.

The inevitable happens, "Elektra."

"What!"

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Shut up and go to sleep."

"But..."

I pull the duvet up to my chin, turning on my side. Blanking works when aggression doesn't. I don't wanna...no, these stupid fucking nightmares. I would ask why they've come back, but I really already know the answer to that.

It's like asking why the sun hot or why that lot are inexplicably irritating.

Perhaps if I fall asleep I won't have the nightmares, just perhaps...

* * *

Breakfast next morning is as painful as to be expected. It's almost inevitable; nothing is sacred in this place, if it can be bitched about, cut open and observed, it will get banded around like a chew toy in a dog rescue centre. It hangs over me like one of those comedy sixteen tonne weights as I head down to another breakfast scramble.

I don't wanna talk about last night...and I want some toast.

As I sit down at the table, I already start to feel the erratic rumblings of another scene and a wall of noise. I catch a glance of Johnny's smug expression. I reckon I've got a few seconds before...

"Have any more night terrors Elektra?"

Not even that long.

Like a knee jerk reaction, I reach across the table and flip his cereal bowl, dumping its contents in his lap. Done and done, I think they ought to get the impression that they better not go poking their nose where it's not wanted. I sour my expression further and make eye contact with no-on, they better take the hint.

"Elektra!" came Gina's angry cry, "What do you think you're doing, ugh...Johnny, take yourself out into the garden, get cleaned-up, go on!"

I feel the possible wall of noise shrink away, the other occupants of the table diverting their gaze as Johnny stomps off, making general whiny grumbles, I try to ignore it.

I hear someone come through the door.

"Err, hey White."

My body glitches, all my physical faculties freezing, jarring, gladly nobody notices.

There's a slightly long pause before White responds, "Err, hi...Tee?"

A shroud of confusion mixed with awkwardness descends; surely it's a bit odd leaving such a pause before responding to something so simple? She's just there; you're not talking to her over an international phone connection.

This was never...ah...

I see White sitting down at the opposite end of the table, and I try desperately to block her out...I mean...I don't really know...

The awkward questions start, "So, did you sleep ok?"

Pause, "Erm...yeah, it was ok...I guess."

"Why do you have pink eyes and white hair?"

Another pause, "It's...because I'm..."

"You've never seen an albino before Jody?"

"Shut up!"

"She called you a rat you know."

Grr...

"No I did not!"

Oh for God's sake...

I try to make a quick exit, but I end up making rather more noise...or perhaps I intended to? The chair scrapes the floor boards, drawing every eye to me again. I have to stop doing this.

As I leave I hear Johnny coming back and sadly, I have to hear him ask, "Hey, White, why do make wimpy Elektra over there so hot under the collar?"

Silence suddenly reigns.


	3. The New Nightmare

******Disclaimer: All original content belongs to its orginal creators.**

The rest of the day passes as awkwardly as you may expect, I try to avoid White...and it's almost like she's avoiding me also...or is that just me?

I suppose it was going ok, until Johnny insists on cornering me in the corridor, snapping at my heels like a terrier with anger management issues. It's not long until I snap at his constant pestering.

"Stop pestering me! What the hell is it that you want?"

"Aright! Calm down wimpy Elektra."

If this does come to blows I am a far better person than I originally thought I was.

"If you call me that one more time I'll..."

"Ok! Ok then." he states as he shrank away from me, bloody hypocrite...but he's still got that smug expression on his face, and then I notice he's holding something. Is that a DVD case?

"So what have you got there then?" I snarl, not letting an inch of aggression from my voice.

"It's just I bet that you can't watch this film..."

What the hell is he going on...he draws the DVD up to my eye line...

"Where the hell did you get a Torture Porn film from?"

Emblazoned upon the cover was an image of some poor sod trussed up in rusted chains, at the end of each chain being set a hook, each hook being embedded in the man's skin, the box holding the legend _The New Nightmare – Why dream when life is so much more painful?_ in a schlocky blood red font.

"I nicked it from Rick."

More to the point then, why does Rick have a Torture Porn film...

"He had loads of these hidden in his room."

Seriously?

"Well then? You gonna prove that you're not a..."

"Fine, I'll do it! We'll watch it when everyone's asleep."

"What? We?"

"Oh yeah...or are too much of a wimpy boy Johnny?"

"No!"

"Then we're agreed?"

"Fine..."

If I'm gonna have to sit through this car crash, he is too.

* * *

As I believe I said before, and if you were paying attention, which I doubt you are, if it can be bitched about, opened up and examined in this place, it will be, hence why mine and Johnny's film-watching pact spread to include a rather disapproving Faith, an irritated Rick and a confused White.

God knows how, maybe walls really do have ears...and as for White...maybe it's good, no ok, that she's here...

It's not like I'm scared or anything, no no no, I'm completely unflappable I am...it's just that...these films are really, really gross...why would you want to watch someone get disembowelled on camera anyway? But I'm not a wimp! Understand!

"Why are you doing this anyway?" Faith asked me whilst Rick and Johnny were arguing over the DVD.

I choose to ignore her; she jumps to her own conclusion anyway.

"This isn't to prove that you're not a wimp is it...it is isn't it."

"So what if it is?"

Faith just makes a vaguely irritated noise; it's not as if her pearls of wisdom have any effect on me anyway. I've made my bed now; I have to lie in it.

Wedged awkwardly between Faith and White, we start to watch the film. I'm not entirely sure if there was a plot or not, and if there was it was just an excuse to string together multiple mutilations. Eyes getting sliced open and gouged out, a man having his head sliced up like salami, somebody getting shoved feet-first into a wood chipper, if it's something that would get you life, it's probably somewhere in this film.

And, oh yeah, there's also the Pièce de résistance to consider, the man getting torn apart by chains, the guy on the cover. So far, the whole wimp test thing had been going rather well...for me at least for me...well not strictly well, I just much better at hiding emotions than wimpy Johnny, who every so often would make a noise like a combination of a squeak, whimper and a cough.

But...watching the chains puncture the man's flesh, it felt as if my stomach was filled with iron fillings and my DMs had sudden become magnetic...oh sweet God that's a lot of blood, and muscles, bone...

"What do you lot think you're doing?"

Ah.

"Hello Gina..." came Rick's rather embarrassed tone.

"Why are you five watching such...horrible films, and more to the point where did you get the film from in the first place?"

Silence.

"And Elektra, why are you sprawled across White's lap like that?"

Oh yeah, I am aren't I...I had wonder why everything had gone vertical...it must have been the shock, yeah, of course it was.

Gina sighed with irritation, "Right, we'll agree not to talk about this little incident again, as I don't want the other kids taking such...liberties. Now, go to bed, all of you!"

We all scatter without much dispute.

Yet as I hit the landing, a tiny voice calls behind me, "Elektra."

That's the White I know, without any of those weird pauses she keep making at breakfast.

"What do you want Emily?"

She makes a garbled irritated noise, tone becoming more firm, "Why have you been ignoring me?"

"You've been ignoring me as well."

She balls her fists up, her eye shooting into sharp focus from the milky mist, "I thought we could have made up by now...Mandy."

"What do you mean, made up? This is your fault you know! And besides, I didn't exactly think you'd turn up out of the blue like this."

"You're sounding like I planned I this. When we got ourselves into this situation, that was it, remember."

I'm not sure how to respond to that...

There's an awkward pause, an awkward silence. Her red eyes seem so unnerving in this light, but kinda interesting...erm...in a good way I guess. She never could really look that threatening, she just looks kinda cute when angry...not that I think she's cute anyway...

The pause gets longer...and less awkward, before we suddenly snap back to our senses.

"Stop it!"

"No you stop it."

"Gah, right, no brinking."

"I wasn't brinking, you were brinking..."

"No I wasn't..."

"White! Elektra! Go to bed now!" came Gina's roar from downstairs.

Just as before, we both scarper to our respective rooms.

Yet as I clamber into bed, ignoring the general aura of irritation coming from Faith's direction, I can't help but think...no, it's probably nothing, it should be nothing Elektra.

Things are different now, they must be, surely...


	4. Flash-Forward

**Disclaimer: All original content belongs to its original creators.**

"_Come on Mandy."_

_I'm being ushered forward, ruddy morning sun leeching into my tiny eyes._

_I'm confused, I know I'm going to school, mother kept going on about it, Melisa goes to school, she's in Year Six, I think..._

_I'm...kinda scared..._

_Mother ushers me curtly through the gate before wandering over to talk to a gaggle of other mothers standing by their four-by-fours. They keep going on about weird stuff, dinner parties and how their children are doing._

_They all look the same; it's really weird...and kinda creepy._

_I'm still kinda scared..._

_This uniform is really itchy, there's too much starch, the collar's so stiff._

_It's so weird, I suddenly find myself amid a group of screaming, yowling brats, running around the tarmac playground, bickering and pinching._

_I'm trembling but I don't quite know it._

"_You're a freak! You white hair and red eyes are really weird!"_

_I feel my back muscles stiffen as I try to locate the noise._

"_Freak! Freak!"_

_A group of bullies in their little starchy uniforms were standing around a girl, a very strange looking girl, picking on her, poking her. Her red...no they're more pink...eyes were glazing over with a watery sheen._

_I storm over, "Hey, what are you doing! That's not very nice you know!"_

"_What are you going to do about it?" snarled the biggest bully._

"_I'll lump you one if you don't stop being mean to her!"_

_There's a general sound of scattering, leaving the biggest bully on his own, not looking so big anymore. It just takes an aggressive glare before he scarpers as well. I suddenly turn my attention to the girl, who is suddenly staring back at me. It lasts only for a second before she diverts her gaze._

_There's a brief pause before she suddenly speaks, "Why did you do that?"_

"_They were being mean to you because of the way you look, and that's not fair."_

"_No it not..."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because...because I'm a freak..."_

"_No you're not a freak!"_

_The girl looks up at me, "Why not...I look so freaky, and you're just saying that..."_

"_No you don't, I think you look really cool."_

"_What?"_

"_Yeah, you're so cool looking because you're so different, you don't wanna look like everyone else right?"_

_There's a tiny, tiny smile, "Yeah...I guess you're right."_

"_So, what's your name?"_

"_Emily."_

"_Mandy."_

"_Both pretty lame names huh?"_

_There's another tiny smile...this time from me, "Yeah I guess..."_

"_Hey, would you like a Wine Gum?"_

"Hey, Elektra! Elektra!"

I suddenly snap back to the present day, "What?"

"You were just staring off into the middle-distance; you've been acting really weird the past few days." Faith said rather bluntly.

It's not as if I can't deny acting...weird...but, remember yourself, you're supposed to be aggressive, "And what, concern, is it of yours if I act, weird, or not."

Faith recoiled slightly, "Well at least your still in the same good humour as you always are."

Charming...well...again, I know that being passive aggressive is one of my...ahem, major emotions.

But I'm allowed to be, ok?

* * *

After the incident with Rick's...questionable, movie collection, in the past couple of days I've thankfully managed to avoid embarrassment rearing its ugly head again, but...I don't know...it's been kinda, tense, recently.

Part of living in care is you learn that you can observe a lot by watching.

Also, you become rather better at sneaking and eavesdropping than may be thought, well, savoury?

"What do you think about the new girl then?"

I freeze as Tee's voice trickles down the corridor from the living room, going onto the balls of my feet, inching towards the wall slightly. I don't even know why I'm doing it...it's not like what they think about White matter to me anyway.

But...why have I suddenly become even more aware of my breathing?

Carmen's the first to speak, as per usual, "She's kinda weird."

No she not, it's all subjective.

"She's not that bad." came Frank's voice.

"Yeah, you've really got in for her." Tyler responded.

"No I haven't," Carmen paused, "it's just she, has some weird habits..."

"Like?" asked Faith.

"Like the whole staring off into the middle distance and those pauses she leaves before sentences."

"It is like the lights are on but nobody's at home."

"Why is that such a problem though?"

"Well also, she gets all het up about sun light and she gets headaches all the time."

"I haven't heard her complaining."

"No," came Johnny's voice this time, "she just kinda rubs her temples like this..."

"She's an albino, don't they get all these eye complaints..."

"...and they burn in the sunlight really easily."

"What about all the pills though?"

"Pills?"

Here we go...for God's sake; taking a couple of tablets isn't that bad...

"What pills?"

"The ones they keep in a box in the office."

"Just because she has to take medication doesn't mean she's weird, she's probably just got a weak immune system or something."

"Yeah but..."

There's a nest of hornets buzzing at the base of my skull, thrumming, trembling...I don't want to hear any more of this conversation...I don't know why though...

I slope of in the opposite direction.

I pass the office on my way to the stairs, when, another conversation drifts in my direction. Mike and Gina, I freeze again.

"So how do you think White's settling in then?"

"I don't really think that's the problem."

"What do you mean problem?"

"Can't you feel it, everyone just a little, tense, at the moment."

"Well surely that's natural. We live in a very tight community here, a new person's always gonna cause tension."

"You don't think I know that Mike?"

"Of course, I'm not questioning you, but..."

"But what?"

"...but I reckon if we do something to help everyone get to know White a bit better perhaps..."

Here it comes.

"How 'bout taking them bowling then?"

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant...

"I don't know if that'll work though, it hasn't before..."

"But there's surely no harm in trying eh?"

I give up and slope off again, heading for my room.

I have no idea where the whole bowling thing came from, it never works anyway...

You know what I said about managing to avoid embarrassment's ugly head?

Yeah, well I think I'm gonna have to reset my _Days since Last Morbidly Embarrassing Incident _counter again...


	5. A Little Friendly Competition

**Disclaimer: All original content belongs to its original creators.**

As if the situation couldn't get any more awkward than it already was.

I remember back to when Tracy was still here, she always said that the whole bowling trick never really worked.

Although, surprisingly, people don't seem to be as confrontational as they usually are when we go bowling...give it an hour, you can bet your bottom dollar on it.

Arrival is as unorganised as per usual.

"Why are we going bowling anyway?"

"I bet it because you lot have been moaning about White."

"I have not!"

"Why do you sound so grouchy then?"

"I am not grouchy!"

"And when you said you weren't grouchy you sounded grouchy."

"Stop messing with my head!"

"You lot, stop messing around. Come and get your shoes."

I can sense the fear and trepidation from the onlookers, it's almost palpable...actually, scratch that, it is palpable. You could make soup out of it...and why have I started spouting rubbish again? God damn it...

I sit down amid the general shuffle of shoe-switching, trying to ignore the general mundane chaos going on around me...

"You mind if I sit here?"

A figure sits down beside me, White...

"I suppose not."

There's a brief pause, White reaches down to adjust her day glow bowling shoes. I observe the milky haze in her eyes.

"What do you want White?"

Pause, "Who says...I want anything?"

"Spit it out."

"It's just..."

"Just what?"

"...it's just that I bet I can knock you into a cocked hat."

"Really?"

"Really."

There's another brief pause.

"Triple Chocolate Milkshake says I can."

"I bet it says you can't."

"Do we have a deal then?"

"Deal!"

"Deal."

I would say this is going to be interesting, but I honestly don't know what it's gonna be...

* * *

"Right you lot, get in your lanes."

I watch the other games get started for a brief few seconds, I see Tyler has already changed Johnny's screen name to _Wimpy Johnny_...tsk, I was gonna do that...and surely he could have come up with something more creative than that?

A ping sound comes from mine and White's scoreboard and I hear the bowling balls upon the rack rattle.

"Eight pins see if you can top that."

Oh I bet I can do far better than that, it's just a case of the right momentum and simple concentration...

A little speed and slip on a floor which feels like it's covered in soap suds, and...

A strike, that milkshake is as good as mine, and yes; I do have the mental age of six.

I turn round to observe that same threatening but not threatening expression, red eyes suddenly becoming far clearer. She still looks ridiculous even when she gets mildly annoyed. It's that same expression she wore a couple of nights back...

"Right, now it's on Mandy."

Heh, you can bet it is Emily.

I'm...kinda enjoying this.

We play turn after turn, matching each other pin for pin...much to the amusement, and also bemusement of the others.

"Do you get the sense they're becoming a little aggressive?" said Mike, overhearing him from the next lane.

"It's like watching cats fight over territory." Gina interjected.

"I never realised those two were this competitive."

I hear Faith's voice entering the conversation, "I thought Elektra being competitive would be rather obvious."

Rude!

But I'm not gonna let them distract me, I'm gonna win this little bet...it's not like I'm being obsessive or anything...it's not like I want to beat White really badly or anything...

I smash White in the first game, the general air of irritation growing around her, but it just makes her look cuter...in an objective observance kinda way though, not that I think she's cute or anything.

Haven't I already been here before?

Besides, I've got a second game to win.

After hitting a nine pin shot and I watch White wander over to the ball rack, Faith suddenly wanders over.

"What do you want?"

"And hello to you to."

I watch White walk over to the lane, derpily skidding on the shiny floor a few times. I hear Faith smirk next to me.

"What?"

"You know, White's a bit...erm..."

"Derpy?"

"Yeah derpy."

Faith does that slightly shocked recoil again; did I just scowl at her?

"Don't shoot the messenger, you said it first."

What's wrong with that...

I sigh, "Well...she's always been like that, getting top marks one day and forgetting which way around you hold a telescope the next."

"Wait, what do you mean _always_."

Crap.

Quick, cover it up.

"Ahaha! What do you take me for, haven't you got a game to be playing," I press my palms against the small of her back and shove her away, "Bye-bye!"

Worst. Cover-up. Ever.

A series of electronic bell noises peel from the monitor. White just got a strike. God damn it, and she just won the bloody game. She turns around, expression on her face like a cat smiling, this is her smug face.

I'm gonna smash this last match so damn hard.

Again, much to amusement of the others, we match each other point for point, the red mist setting become like blind folds.

I would ask why I've suddenly become so obsessed about winning...but I think I already know the answer...

Haven't I been here before also?

The match comes down to a few shots, which luckily White manages to fudge. Her cat-smile has vanished long ago, and has been replaced by that same cute irritation. A strike will win me the game.

Heh, easy.

It's almost textbook as I line up the shot and I am rewarded by that same electronic peal from the monitor.

I saunter over to White, "Well I guess that means I've won our little bet?"

She looks up at me, "Yeah...I guess."

But then...I...I do something, well I'm not sure what it is or why it is, but I start giggling.

White rounds on me, "Why are you laughing at me? It's not funny!"

Giggles morph into full blown laughter.

"Stop laughing!"

"I'm sorry...it's just..."

_My hand darts out and slams down on the card pile._

"_Snap! I win!"_

_Emily looks up at me, looking rather angry, "I guess you did."_

_But, something about her expression, it just...it just makes me laugh._

"_Why are you laughing?"_

"_It's just you're so competitive! It's just so funny!"_

White's grumpy expression suddenly melts away, the corners of her eyes crease.

"It's because me being so competitive is funny isn't it?"

"Yeah...kinda."

Then, at the speed of a gale wind, she started laughing, the pair of us keeling over at the waists, supporting each other by the shoulders.

I'm still not sure what was so funny. Perhaps today wasn't such a disaster at all...

And besides, White always comes good on her promises.


	6. Yin and Yang

**Disclaimer: All content belongs to its original creators**

I'm not quite sure how I've ended up in this situation, but I've somehow been roped into playing football. It's never really appealed to me before, and it's not as if the football the others play has any rules to it. It's just ball, goal, yay.

As I wander down the reconstituted stone steps to the lower garden, I notice a fleck of white amid the general grungy greenery. Since when did White play football?

Since when did I play football anyway, and we come full circle, again...hang on.

White spots me and saunters over, looking about as confused as I feel, "What are you do down here?"

"I was gonna ask you the same question."

"They just kept pestering me to play, I didn't wanna say no...actually, I only said yes so they'd stop pestering me."

I suddenly realise how all eyes have snapped in our direction.

I lean in and whisper to White, "I think I know why, they wanna get us all competitive again."

She snorted, "I did realise it was so boring around here."

"Fancy playing them at their own game?"

"Go on..."

"Shall we team up and curb-stomp them?"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"Hey, you two stop whispering and start playing!"

White chuckles next to me, "If anyone asks, they asked for it."

It's almost like everything has gone back to how it was...make that, normal, or perhaps how it should be? When we're not trying to outsmart or outmanoeuvre each other...we make quite a good team actually.

And we're gonna show that by racking up those goals.

* * *

Half an hour, half a frenzied hour passes, and I think we do a rather good job of beating the others into next week...not that I'm being immodest or anything. It helps that White is far faster than me anyway.

She's got that cat-smile on her face again.

"What is it with you two?" Rick grumbled.

"Yeah," Frank interjected, "when we went bowling, you two were at each other's throats."

"You guys can't tell the difference between aggro and a little friendly competition?"

"Friendly? You were scowling at each other."

"Pft, little details!"

White and I reach up our hands to high-five; the rest couldn't look more confused.

"You know if you look up the definition of contrary in a dictionary there's a picture of you two."

"Oh, hello to you to Faith."

"Since when were you so chipper?"

I am? I straighten my face.

"There's something odd about you two."

"What do you mean?"

"You're polar opposites but you're also the same."

"And that's supposed to mean?"

"It's like...Yin and Yang."

Yin and Yang?

"_Really, we must have words about this."_

"_I was going to say that!"_

"_Well, I was going to say that your child is having a terrible effect on young Mandy!"_

"_Well, I was going to say that your child is having a terrible effect on young Emily!"_

"_They've become inseparable, it's terrible!"_

"_How do you explain them giving each other new names then, that's terrible!"_

_I become aware of another presence in the hall._

"_What are you doing Mandy?"_

_Melisa._

"_Mother told us is terribly rude to eavesdrop."_

_Well there goes my stealth then._

_I brush of Melisa's intrusion and make for the stairs, "Mandy, what are you doing, where are you going?"_

_I just manage one flippant comment, "It's not Mandy, it's Elektra."_

"Elektra will you stop spacing out like that, you're getting worse than White."

_The park lies deserted, the creak of the roundabout in the wind being the only sound._

_You're not supposed to still like the park when you're nearly ten, but... I don't know, it's kinda peaceful. Sitting on the swings if kinda relaxing. _

_And it seems nowadays it's the only place I can talk in confidence to Emily without someone trying to overhear us..._

"_I've been thinking..." I start._

"_Yeah?"_

"_I remember when we first met."_

"_When you saved me from those bullies."_

_I smile, a tiny smile._

"_You said something, you said how...well, lame, our names are."_

"_What can we do about that though?"_

"_Well, we could change our names."_

"_Don't you have to be eighteen to do that?"_

"_Meh, but that's only officially, with all the boring paper work and stuff. Surely what's important is what others call us and what we call ourselves."_

"_I suppose your right."_

"_Well, what do you think we should call ourselves then?"_

_She grins nervously, "I'm not quite sure."_

"_I know what your name should be."_

"_What?"_

"_White."_

"_White?"_

"_Yeah, because, well...that's your nicest feature."_

"_Eh?"_

"_Your white hair makes you all unique and stuff, and it sounds really cool."_

_There's a silence._

"_So, do you like the name?"_

_She must be thinking._

"_Yeah, I really like it." White responded._

_I suddenly get this odd glowy feeling behind my rib cage, White looks really...well, I'm not sure, I guess, contented?_

"_How about you then?"_

"_Erm...I haven't really thought about it."_

"_I think I've got an idea..."_

"_What? Tell me!"_

"_I thought of, Elektra."_

"_Why did you think of that?"_

"_Well, it sounds like a name you don't mess with..."_

_Not sure how to respond to that._

"_...and it reminds me of electricity and electricity is blue isn't it? And you like blue."_

_There's a pause._

"_Heh, I really like it...White." _

"_Err, thank-you...Elektra."_

_There's another pause, before we suddenly break into laughter, the sound echoing off the rusted fences and the tarmac._

_I recover from the sudden hilariousness of the situation, "I was also thinking, do you think I should go through with dying my hair?"_

"_Getting the blue highlights you mean?"_

"_Yeah..."_

"_Surely it's like the name thing."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Well, it's about what you feel, not about anything else."_

_I guess, I guess that's what I said..._

"_Yeah, you're right. I should do it, no matter what mother says..."_

"_I'm not right, you're the one who's right here, I'm just parroting what you said."_

_Again, that glowy feeling..._

I remember that day, that day we sat on the swings and chose our names...I remember it so well.

It's lucid like the moon, lucid like the earth.

That day...I guess Faith is spot on for once.


	7. Like Old Times

**Disclaimer: All content belongs to its original creators**

I don't normally go out shopping, or get the chance to in fact. Me and shopping...just doesn't mix generally. But there are some dribs and drabs I need, so, eh, what can you do?

It's a small mercy I managed to wrangle going shopping on my own...well, if I hadn't gotten permission I would of gone anyway, people round here are always in and out for some trumped up reason or other. Nothing a little aggression can't solve I guess.

That kind of thing seems to happen around here an awful lot...almost makes you wish you lived in somewhere vaguely normal...

Things seem far quieter today than they normally are in this place, it's almost...well unnerving, come to think of it, would somewhere vaguely normal be any good for me to live in?

Eh...I didn't do too well the first time around...

"Where you going?"

I do an odd kinda twitch out of shock, and swivel round to try and locate the source of the noise.

"White! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"You still haven't answered my question."

"I'm just, well, going out?"

I am going out, why did I sound so confused...

"Ok then."

There's a pause.

"Can I come with?"

For the first time in so long, my throat jars. I feel hot, uncomfortably hot all of a sudden.

I let out a slightly exasperated sigh, "Yeah ok then."

"Great."

"Great..."

We walk in silence for a few minutes...until, again, oddly for me; I feel the need to break the silence.

"Why are you wearing that massive hoodie? You look like a bloody Jedi."

She did. I know baggy hoodies are supposed to be fashionable but this is ridiculous.

White snorted, "Excuse me, but remember that sunlight..."

I can finish this sentence, "...is a bitch. Yes I know..."

"But who in their right mind would wear so much of one colour?"

"I don't know what you're talking about _White_."

There's a pause before a slightly manic snigger came from somewhere inside her hoodie and she reached out and gave me a little shove sideways. This is almost like how things used to be...

White freezes.

"What's the matter with you?"

No response.

"Hello? Anybody in there!"

No doubt about it, White never really stops being derpy...

"I think we're being followed..."

"What?"

"I don't think, we definitely are being followed..."

"I thought we'd been through this, it is only you ya know."

She swivels back around, "So, where are we going then?"

"Eh? But what about the whole _we being followed _thing?"

"Tsk, you're probably right, it probably is just me."

Fair enough I suppose.

We continue walking down the road, leaves rustle in a warm wind, noise of cars from other roads lilt through the air...again, it all seems so very quiet, so very...well peaceful.

It's so odd, so very odd...but in a good way I suppose.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Huh?"

"What are we gonna do?"

What are _we_ gonna do...

"Hang on, that's a different question."

"Ah damn..."

"Aha, got you."

It is just like old times...

* * *

"Right, here's one glass of lemonade..."

"That's mine." White responds.

"And, one mug of coffee and one slice of chocolate cake..."

"They're mine, cheers Jade" I respond.

White lost one of our little bets again.

And yes, I am very smug.

Admittedly...I have had more fun than I might have had if I had gone on my own...not that I feel in the least bit happy that White wanted to come with me. It was just, well, more fun?

I really need to stop doing this...just don't think about it.

"Hey Elektra..."

"Yeah?"

"Remember when we used to sit on the swings...

"...in the park..."

"...remember, we used to drink cheap cider, we thought we were so cool."

"Just because it annoyed our parents right?"

Things suddenly become very, uncomfortable. It feels like everything has become very cold all of a sudden, everything I touch feels as fragile as porcelain.

I'm a square peg in a round hole.

"Good old days..."

"I guess you could call them that..."

No you couldn't.

The pause weighs so heavy; it feels like there's a stone, a vast boulder crushing my chest.

I've felt better.

"You gonna eat that cake or what?"

"I won that far and square..."

"Pft...if I hadn't gotten distracted, I would have kicked you across the arcade."

"Distracted?"

"Yeah, distracted."

"Distraction doesn't come into it, I'm just better."

"That's rubbish and you know it."

"It's true and you damn well know it..."

I stop.

"Elektra, what's wrong?"

What's wrong is that I heard a laugh, and very distinctive laugh echo out from across the road.

White was right, we were being followed.

"White..."

"What?"

"...wait here..."

"What, were are you going?"

I start to stride off across the road. There's a small gaggle of vans parked across from the cafe, I hear the laugh again, this time quieter. I reckon they haven't seen me coming...

I round the side of the van to see Tyler and Jody sniggering to each other.

"What are you two doing here?"

The two little runts start and stare up at me, expressions similar to that look a guilty dog has.

"I'll ask again, what are you two doing here?"

"We weren't doing nothing!" Jody yelled.

"Yeah, we're not doing anything," Tyler interjected, "how do you not know we're just here because we wanted to be?"

What a load of old bullshit...

"Don't lie to me Tyler, I can tell when you're lying."

"How?"

"You're lips are moving."

"Oi! That really unfair..."

"So what! You two have about thirty seconds to get the hell out of here or I'll thump you both one!"

"We've got as much right to be here as you you know!"

"Snooping around and following people isn't exactly a good habit you know."

"So? You getting a bit touchy about anyone knowing about your date with White?"

What did he say...

"This is not a date!"

"Well it certainly looks like one!"

"Yeah, we saw you two in the arcade."

"You even argue like a couple."

I lurch out and grab both of the little runts by their scruffs before...

"Elektra, what are you doing?"

Ah, White just rounded the corner...

"And what are Tyler and Jody doing here?"

"Oh...erm...they're just having a wander around town and...stuff..."

"No, she's lying White!"

"How...how can you tell Tyler?"

"Her lips are moving."

Rude, a slap to the back of the head often offends.

"Ow, what was that for!"

"Shut up Tyler," I let go of the pair, "right, both of you, get the hell outta here!"

"But..."

"One two three four!"

The pair scarpers, thank God for that...however; I know have to explain what just happened to White.

"What just happened?"

Well, I just got accused of going on date with you and when we get back to The Dumping Ground I am gonna get the biggest heap of flack since...since the last biggest heap of flack...I don't know, the metaphor kinda broke down midway through that thought...and yes I have totally lost my train of thought...

"Erm, I don't know, they were just here I suppose..."

"Then why did you yell at them like that?"

Bugger...

"Would you like some of my cake..."

Scratch what I said before...that was the worst cover up ever.

"The same cake you said you'd won fair and square."

"Yup."

"Bloody hypocrite."

"Tou-fucking-che."

I just don't know anymore.


	8. The Sword of Damocles

**Disclaimer: All content belongs to its original creators.**

Back at the Dumping Ground, as my estimation, no, my burgeoning powers of clairvoyance told me, just because I happened to spend some time with White outside this place it now means were dating. And good God do this lot pick that kind of stuff up and run with it, they're like little terriers.

Would make you think that nothing vaguely interesting happens in this place at all.

But they're really dining out on this; I keep getting blind-sided by the little pests and...for the lack of better words, pestered.

I barely got through the door before Tyler accosted me, voice raised suspiciously high. You'd be surprised how well sound carries in this place, just like the empty gossip.

"So," he began, "how was your _date_ with White then?"

"It wasn't a date Tyler..."

"Did you go out?"

Not sure where this is going.

"Yes?"

"Did you have fun?"

"Yes?"

"Then it was a date!"

Wow, you're logic is flawless...wait, I can use this.

"Then how was your date with Jody?"

"Don't be disgusting."

* * *

This piss taking continues pretty much relentlessly, and I continue to bite the heads off anyone who comes even close, people need to learn where not to stick their noses in.

It's like training a dog; if it keeps pissing on the carpet you punish it.

Even Faith, who purports to be above all of this, couldn't help but having a pop. It doesn't help when you have to share a room with her.

It doesn't help that when you're trying to get to sleep, listening to the creak of floorboards and water pipes, sirens rushing past in the darkness outside and the wittering of others through the paper-thin walls, that you're roommate seems to be finding excuses to make snide comments.

I finally snap.

"Just shut up and go to sleep!"

"Ok...I'm sorry but..."

"I don't wanna here it!"

Minutes pass, ten, fifteen, half an hour? Time just seems to stretch and contract at will, the fusty silence lying little a sodden blanket.

_Hack...hack..._

What the hell was that?

_Grah...hack...grah..._

There it is again.

_Huhn...hackhackhack..._

There's this noise, this noise stabbing the silence, and it keeps getting louder...

_Grah..._

If whoever's making that noise doesn't stop I swear I'm gonna...

"Somebody help!"

Carmen's yell punctures the air, a commotion stirring in all the other rooms.

"Somebody come and help her!"

Wait...her...oh my God.

The pit of my stomach vanishes into infinity as I hurl myself out of bed, burning the bottoms of my feet on the carpet.

Already a group of figures in their night-shirts had congregated outside Carmen's door, Carmen herself leaning on the frame, an unknown expression of fear upon her face. I force my way through the crowd.

"Carmen, what's going on?"

No response, she just stands there, all the colour slowly draining from her face.

"Carmen!"

"Something's wrong with White..."

"What's wrong with her?"

"...she, she just started coughing up blood."

I force my way past her, blood running ice cold, lumps of ice puncturing vein walls, draining into my feet...

White sits up in bed, crumpled in two, the slightest hints of colour that there may once have been drained from her completely. Like freshly washed sheets, or a pencil drawing.

Her red eyes, wide in fear, hands clutched around her mouth, a dribble of red running down her neck, staining her pyjama collar. It stains the sheets as well, in little specks.

Then a convulsion comes, an earthquake of muscle, her shoulders twitch and tremble. More red runs.

I...I...

"What is going on! Is White ok?"

Mike, Mike's voices echoes out in the corridor. A series of mumbles answer him.

The frost in my blood has leeched out and has locked me to the floor, spreading up my legs, running to my chest.

I can't move.

I barely notice Mike charge past me, "Elektra, go on, go, give White some breathing space..."

I swallow hard, "Ok..."

Moving back to my room, my bed, it's like moving through treacle. My head swims with fog. I collapse stomach first onto my mattress.

I remember, I remember this before...

I almost thought I'd forgotten...I'd forgotten...

_I'd just taken my eyes of her for one second._

"_Emily? Emily!"_

_I bet it's those bullies again, why do they always have it in for her?_

_When I find them I am really going to give them what for, no matter what mother or the teachers say._

_Just because she's a little bit different..._

"_Right you little freak, you are really gonna get it now, and you don't have your little hellcat friend Mandy to defend you this time..."_

_Voice, I can hear their voices coming from the bike sheds...and I am not a hellcat...whatever one of those is._

_I round the side of the sheds, Emily has been pinned to the wall by two of the bullies, the largest bully standing over her, fists clenched._

"_Oh look what the cat dragged in!"_

"_You better let go of her!"_

"_Or what? What will you do ya little runt!"_

_I pause, I...I don't know what to do._

"_Heh, so that's your master plan eh? Well then, watch this!"_

_In a millisecond, the bully thumped his fist straight into Emily's belly. She went down like a rag doll._

"_Is that all you can take freak!"_

"_Erm, George..."_

_Emily starts to shake, tiny shakes in her shoulders. Then she starts to cough..._

_Red stains the tarmac._

_I charge over and drop to my knees beside her, she keeps coughing, and coughing, and coughing..._

_I panic._

"_Quick, you morons! Go and get a teacher!"_

_They flounder._

"_Go!"_

_The bullies scarper._

_Minutes pass, and every second...I just don't know what to do, what's wrong with her..._

_After what seems like eons, the teacher comes, she seems so scared..._

"_Mandy, would you like to go and play with the others?"_

"_No! I wanna stay with Emily..."_

"_But Emily's very ill darling, it's part of her condition."_

"_Condition?"_

"_Yes, why do you think she has such...unique...looks..."_

_I want to respond but suddenly the school nurse comes charging over._

"_Right, Mandy, stop being such a silly girl and get out of the way!"_

_I want to respond...but I just...I just..._

...can't.

It's hung over me all this time, the sword of Damocles, and I've just...ignored it.

And the string just got cut.


	9. Seeing Red

**Disclaimer: All content belongs to its original creators.**

I don't see White for a few days.

Its amazing how a little bit of blood can cut the tongues of idle gossip.

It hangs; it hangs over the house, heavier than a shroud of concrete. I can feel it pressing hard upon my back and shoulders, bones crumbling to dust. It feels like you can't call anything else agony.

It's intolerable, buzzing and itching under my skin.

I have nothing but aggression to replace it. To replace what's been eaten.

My aggravation follows me around like a cloud in a cartoon, comedy thunderbolts and all. Giving the general fuck-off aura tends to give most sensible people the hint to give me a wide birth, this fuck-off aura being particularly intense to say the least.

I could just stay in my room, but I've gotta eat, and I'd still have to deal with Faith.

Faith, the girl who seemingly sees demons wherever she sees something slightly amiss...

But she can be right sometimes...but she's definitely not this time...I swear, I swear she's not.

However, when I said that my fuck-off aura gives sensible the hint, the key word in that sentence is sensible. The same aura that would scare one person off seems to attract some like moths to a bloody flame.

I try to mind my own business, but this is hard to do when you know someone's watching you. You get the feeling that something's gonna happen at any second...

"Hey Elektra..."

There you go, right on cue, right on bloody cue.

"I don't have time for this Johnny, so why don't I tell you to piss off now?"

"Who rattled your cage?"

"Who opened yours?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Why are you all so tetchy at the moment?"

"Tetchy?"

"Yeah, tetchy."

"I am not tetchy!"

"Tetchy, tetchy, tetchy!"

"Stop calling me tetchy!"

I would be a far better person if I hadn't thumped the little shit so hard he'd collapsed on the floor like a sock puppet, but as we have already established...I'm not a particularly better person.

* * *

And so it goes on, for days heaped upon days or so it would seem. Or maybe it's only a few days, maybe time's just fucking with my head again. Christ it feels like eons.

And I keep cracking, breaking out into rage under the slightest provocation. The red mist has actually taken up residence in my head now like I hung a bloody _To Let _sign round my neck.

Mental note to self, never use that metaphor out loud, it might give people ideas.

I suppose I could do something, but it's only like the instance of if you break a jug and cellotape it back together again you still have a jug.

Bloody hell, even I didn't understand that one. I think the point is that the jug is crap...and leaky...

And it goes on, and on. I sense palpable fear and frustration amid the others and Mike and Gina, it smells like rust, acid and...other unpleasant things...

It's only when it comes to another breakfast rush, or clash, or whatever, when it gets significantly worse. It was kinda unexpected I guess, but not unexpected I guess...

I'm trying to focus on my toast, when an exclamation draws my attention.

"Oh, hi White!"

A shiver forces itself through my back muscles, I look up.

White stands in the kitchen door, resting all her weight upon Mike who stood next to her. A faint sheen of colour had returned to her already pallid complexion, her eyes glazed over in a milky fug. I notice, I notice the tremors running through her legs, like a foal just trying to walk.

I can't deal with this now...

Perhaps might be a good time to swap aggression for blanking. I rather like the idea of duvet cocooning for the rest of the day...which isn't me cowering, it's just...my head, my head feels like it has a brass band in it all of a sudden.

* * *

The rest of the day goes past in a dim haze, so much smoke in your lungs and head. I've just chosen to ignore it...but didn't you say you couldn't ignore it before?

Well, sod that then! I can choose what I can ignore! I don't give a flying fuck about fate or things coming back to bite you or any of that crap. I'm supposed to be Elektra, I'm supposed to be fiercer than a tiger with a chainsaw...or something like that, crap metaphor...

But still, the point still bloody well stands!

I don't care if the so called sword of so called Damocles has fallen, I can tough it out! A sword driven through your shoulder blades from above is nothing. In the words of the Black Knight, _'tis but a flesh wound!_

Grah, I can feel the red mist leeching into my throat and eyes...

The door to my room opens.

"So this is where you've been hiding all of this time."

Ah, Faith, what a joy, what a bloody joy.

I don't answer.

"What's the matter with you? Why are you suddenly giving White the cold shoulder?"

I feel a crack drive itself down the centre of my brain.

I suddenly sit bolt upright, "This is nothing to do with Emily!"

"What?"

I collapse backward again; my guts start to twist themselves in knots.

"Alright, I would say there's something going on if it wasn't so brutally obvious that there was something going on."

Don't answer.

"If you wanna ignore me then, be my guest."

She stomps away, leaving a ripple of uncomfortable silence in her wake.

Why should this have anything to do with White? Why can't it just be to do with me? We're not so dependent on each other you know...

Besides, it's not like she was all that reliable in the first place...

_If White shows her face around here anymore I'll..._

"_Erm, Elektra..."_

_I turn about to see the albino, dwarfed by her uniform, stood directly behind me. I can see her frame shaking._

"_I don't wanna talk to you..."_

"_But..."_

_I snap, "No buts! You left me in the lurch back there and I ended up in a cell because of it!"_

"_I..."_

"_Now Melisa's refusing to talk to me, she keeps going on about missing her prom or something..."_

"_Elektra...I'm sorry..."_

"_What did I just say!"_

"_That Melisa wasn't talking to you?"_

"_No before that!"_

"_But you said..."_

"_Stop trying to contradict me!"_

"_Sorry..."_

"_I don't care anymore, I don't want your apologies, just don't talk to me anymore..."_

_She doesn't respond, she just stares at her shoes..._

But, but we started talking again didn't we...

After all, we've gotten here haven't we?

But does that still matter anymore?

I still don't quite know...


	10. Take A Little Trip

**Disclaimer: All content belongs to its original creators.**

So, this is yet another of one of Mike's good ideas, I have honestly no idea where he comes up with these God damn ideas...

It's like bowling all over again; all it does is create more problems.

It's like taking away a serial killer's axe only to present him with a machete instead.

Bloody stupid, that's what it is...quite literally if you take the above example.

Talking garbage as per usual are we? Fan-bloody-tastic. Stop using the swear word bloody, it only makes the general issue of you speaking rubbish worse...but now I'm talking to myself. Fuck.

The coach is arranged in its usual segregated manner, muttered conversations caught up in the general grinding hum of the diesel engine. I keep my focus upon the scenery as it flits past, a murky blur of greens, browns and greys.

I don't travel well. The lukewarm fug mixed in with the slight taint of diesel makes my stomach squirm against the rest of my internals, twisting themselves into what feels like a sheepshank knot. Just try not to think about it, like you just did...ugh...that is not a nice feeling.

What I don't quite get is how and why White came on this trip, it not like she just got better or anything and it's not like it couldn't be completely disastrous if she gets ill again and complicates...

But it's not like, but it's not like I care about that anyway...

It's her own...ugh my stomach...

How far away is this stupid campsite anyway?

If it takes any longer I'm opening a window, it's not like the whining of the others matters all that much. If you're cold put a God damn coat on...

Petty? Me? No!

But this is all so much water under the bridge isn't it?

And that's what it ought to feel like anyway, and perhaps it does.

Maybe I haven't just noticed it yet.

* * *

As you may have guessed by now, being stuck in the middle of some random field isn't my kind of fun.

There are pros and cons to consider in this situation. Pro, Tee can't ruin this with a herd of sheep. Con, it would be much more interesting with a herd of sheep. Pro, I only have to share with one person. Con, that person happens to be Faith.

Have I ever mentioned how that girl's little, tiny, tiniest fucking habits irritate me.

Well to be fair, even her larger habits make my blood boil. An insistence on jogging and optimism combined does make me rage...but I think we may have been over this.

Like every thought I seem to be having recently. My brain's like porridge in a spin cycle.

But back to one of Faith's, ahem, smaller faults. Her insistence on instructions.

Organisation and me have never been the best friends, my philosophy is that if you can remember where you last put it, you're fine. Instructions are like that, but significantly worse.

"How exactly do you know you put that pole there?"

"Because I know what a tent should look like, and I have a brain."

"But you haven't seen the guide. How do you know what it looks like?"

"You're acting like we're trying to diffuse a bomb or something."

"But if this goes wrong, you're sleeping under the drippy bit!"

Why do I have the sudden urge to make a joke?

"Listen; as I have said before, it's a tent. It's just a case of groundsheets, pegs, ropes and other crap like that. I can handle it."

Faith's irritated huff is as audible as a gunshot. Certainly feels like one.

Besides, I'm about a thousand times more competent than those dredges. Tents in various stages of completion litter the field, looking like those weird ass pieces of modern art. The only duo managing half decently being Carmen and White.

The pair seems to have put their differences aside, or so it would seem. Actually scratch that, they probably have.

The poor bastard of a tent peg I'm trying to hammer in buckles under a particularly aggressive smash. I hear Faith snigger.

I grit my teeth, "Go and get another tent peg!"

"Ok, but if you'd looked at the plan you wouldn't have done that."

Another thing about Faith that makes me rage, her fondness of being proved right.

What does Mike expect we'll learn from this? All I've learnt so far is how to increase my blood pressure, and I was pretty good at that already.

* * *

Somehow we manage to put the tent up properly, but not after another two arguments, both of which pretty much running along the same lines as the first we had. Faith having a go at my lack of organisation, two three, me not giving a fuck, three four, us having a fractious and petty falling out, four five.

Least the damn things done, that's the important thing in this car-crash I suppose.

The general commotion in the commotion in the rag-tag camp had died down somewhat, the tents resembling tents now instead of something that wouldn't look out of place in the Saatchi Collection thanks to some reluctant help from Mike and some random man; I think he owns the field or something.

He'll be the one doing the chucking out at any rate.

I could try to relax, but every fibre in every muscle feels like a length of wire twisted to breaking point. I feel, stretched, sore. It's this place...well not this place specifically, I'm currently in a field in the middle of nowhere, but you know what I mean. There's something that can make you sick to the skin and green to the gills.

Like inhaling acid vapour.

Or maybe that's just the journey here still having an effect.

Or maybe, maybe this is just all my problem, wouldn't be the first time anyway...

No, for fucks sake Elektra, stop thinking about it...it never does you any favours when you do. Besides, it was her fault, not yours...

"Elektra!"

What now?

I glance up to see Mike, weaving between tent ropes, headed directly towards me. I've done something else to spoil the trip now haven't I?

"White's gone missing!"

Ok...wasn't expecting that, wait.

"What do you mean missing?"

"I don't know, according to Carmen when they finished putting up their tent she just kind of..."

"Vanished?"

"Yes, yes, yes..."

"So you want me to help you look for her."

"Yes...but why do you sound so irritated..."

Every time, every time she couldn't...I become aggressive, she just goes off somewhere, somewhere in that mind of hers...

She can't have gone far, besides, the only place she could have gone were you couldn't see her...

"She's in the forest."

Beside the campground sat a forest. Not a foreboding forest, just a foresty forest. I don't know, it's just a forest, what do you expect me to say?

"Why do you think that?"

"Just trust me on this."

It's obvious, it's bloody obvious. We're hardly dealing with an elaborate murder mystery here.

"Right, erm, I'll go and have a look..."

"I can look for her myself."

"But..."

I don't bother listening to him, as I said, thousand times more competent. Besides, I know White better than the rest of the drudges here, which gives me licence to look for her.

This is nothing to do with the fact that despite the red mist doing its best to smother it, this is nothing to do with the fact that she could get burned or the cold could go to her chest...

No, this definitely isn't to do with something like that, surprised I even thought of the damn thing.

I'm just obliged, that's all...


	11. Lilies

**Disclaimer: All content belongs to its original creators**

I know many different types of silence.

There's that awkward silence, that makes every inch of you squirm, that weighs upon you and crushes you. There's that kind of Zen silence, where you feel as if you're drowning in liquid calm. There's that _oh shit_ silence, where everyone realises a sudden terrible truth.

But this, this kinda silence is a little different. It's a silence highlighted by the musty scent of moss, it clings to the inside of your lungs, blocks up your windpipe. It's a silence punctuated by the minute rustlings of leaves.

But it's a silence that I have to break. Yet another skill you get living at a place like The Dumping Ground.

"White! White!"

She better be somewhere close, all this forest looks the same to me.

Same tree, same silence.

It's the kinda thing that would drive you mad, if it was dark...and this was a horror movie. To be honest, it's just mildly irritating.

"White!"

Where the hell is she?

"White!"

Ok, now it's very irritating.

"White!"

For Christ's sake, right, perhaps she's further north...west...I don't know.

A rustle...a rustle a few trees to my right. It could just be an animal?

"White?"

A louder rustle, something becomes to shift behind the tree.

I pause.

A figure, an androgynous, pale figure appeared round the cracked trunk of one of the many, many identical trees out to my right.

Ok, now this is just fucking ridiculous.

"You where there the whole fucking time!"

"Yes?"

"I...I..."

She emerges from behind the tree, "Yep?"

"Why the hell didn't you respond to me calling you?"

"Erm..."

I don't give her time to respond, "And why aren't you wearing your hoodie?"

She doesn't even attempt to respond.

"You could get burned or, or...you know how weak your chest is."

"I'm not a child Elektra..."

"Then why do you insist on acting like one?"

Silence, a different kind of silence. This one feels like having hot knife blades hovering over every inch of your flesh.

I have to talk, "And, and, why the hell are you risking getting ill again?"

"Lilies."

"Lilies?"

"Yes..."

"Are you actually fucking kidding me? You're risking getting ill again for lilies?"

What I haven't realised is how much White's expression had darkened.

"You don't have to keep protecting me Elektra."

"Well you could have fooled me..."

"What's that supposed to mean."

"It means what you think it means."

"Stop trying to tie me in knots!"

"Weren't you listening to me before?"

"Stop..."

"You do stupid things like this all the time, so why do you think you need looking after?"

"What do you mean all the time?"

"Don't play dumb with me..."

"But you just accused me of being dumb..."

"No I didn't, I said..."

"I know what you said!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

White suddenly darts straight towards me and lands a blow in my stomach, I keel and stagger back.

She's always been faster than me.

What the hell just happened? And what the hell was that for!

"So that's how it is then?" I manage to gasp, doubled over.

"Well what if it is?"

"What?"

"What happened to you being so damn aggressive and fierce Mandy?"

Did she just taunt me? If she wants me to be fierce, I can be fucking fierce.

"Fine!"

"Eh, what do you mean fine?"

I go for her, lunging out, catching her across the jaw and lip. She staggers back, letting out a guttural cry of shock.

Oh, now it really is on.

I know how to fight, that much is obvious. I've been chucked around; care home after care home, like a bomb in a cartoon. You learn how to defend yourself; you learn how to make sure others mind their own business, always by force.

But...but I never could have accounted for White knowing how to fight. She was always so frail; you'd think she's shatter like glass...

Maybe I have underestimated her.

But the fight, the fight isn't what you'd call dramatic. Having a fight isn't as earth shattering as you may think; it's just a mundane scuffle, White and I trading petty blows.

Well...that's if you look at it from the outside...

It certainly hurt allot more than it should...

After a few minutes we break apart, surveying the damage.

I've managed to split White's lip, pale flesh broken apart, staining her skin with tiny specs of red.

White glances up at me, angry glare cutting through me, coiling her hand around the wound.

I can feel the full flush of a violet bruise blooming out against my eye, steadily dripping down my cheek bone. I can feel another blue flower blooming against my abdomen.

There's another silence, this is an awkward one. This silence seems awful common.

"Why do we have to fight like this?"

"I don't know, you started it."

"But it's not like we haven't done this before..."

"Yeah but you punch harder now."

White lowers her gaze, staring at her shoes.

I'm terrible, we're both terrible. We're not all that different, we're both fractious, we're both aggressive.

We don't forgive easily...

I can't help but wonder if we've always been like this, or is it just because...

"We're terrible aren't we?" White mumbles.

"Yeah, I guess we are..."

We both stare at our shoes.

I let out a sigh, sliding my jacket from my shoulders.

"Here, take this..."

She slips the jacket on, flipping up the hood.

It feels like my brain has become vapour. Light-headed.

"Can you even get lilies in a place like this?"

"Erm...I don't really know..."

I realise, I realise suddenly how it's just White and I...

The deep silence hangs, leaves rustle, the moss' musk hovers.

White's eye flick back up to mine.

The rest of the world fades into crystal fog.

"Elektra! White!"

Reality snaps back with the harsh crack of a whip.

Mike? Wasn't that Mike's voice.

Loud rustling starts to echo from the south, beating the forest silence into submission. I glance around to see Mike striding toward us from the direction of the camp.

"Guys, what's taking you so long? White, where have you been?" he starts, "And what exactly happened to both of you?"

We glance at each other.

"I fell over?" White begins

Go with it, "Yeah...I just tripped and..."

"Gave yourselves a black eye, a split lip?"

"Yep," we replied in unison.

Mike lets out an exasperated sigh, "Right, whatever, just get back to camp now. Just be a little bit more careful this time, ok?"

We start to wander back to camp, silence as a yoke.

I'm not quite sure what just happened, or perhaps what would have happened if Mike hadn't turned up...

But, but that isn't something I can't just brush off, can I? There's no mystery to this situation, at least not to me anyway, I can see it as clear as day. It's as unmistakable as when you stub your toe or if you've been shot.

The ink blot, black tendrils spidering out of control, soaking deeper into the paper.

It jars up my conscious, like my head's filled with glue...

White never found those lilies.


	12. Blood From a Stone

**A/N: Just to say sorry for not updating as quickly as perhaps the other chapters have been, I've been kinda overworked recently. Also, I would like to say a massive thank you to those of you who have supported me thus far, it's really appreciated guys!**

**Disclaimer: All content belongs to its original creators.**

I was right, White did become ill.

She's been holed up in her tent for the past day or so, rapped in seemingly every blanket in the known universe.

She just shudders...shudders and coughs.

The scent of sickness has worked itself into my chest, the syrupy stinging of medicine mixing with the smell of grass and mud. It burns, well, not burns, but kinda...smoulders. Like getting a breath-full of volcanic ash.

Your innards become a brick-oven.

It's the kinda thing that can easily put a dampener on any camp trip...actually, that can be done with pretty much anything. Mostly rain actually, probably where the expression came from in the first place.

But, that's not what's important...

As if anything here's important, you just need to be...you just need to ignore it.

And if, Elektra, and if you constantly insist on thinking about it, it's just gonna get worse.

Like it really could get worse, heh?

Just keep telling yourself that, it's not like you're going to regret thinking it right?

Right? Bloody right...

And you're talking to yourself again, twice in so many days. Well fuckity fuck fuck, you really are losing it aren't you.

Like a tiger with no teeth, you can hardly be gummed to death can you?

You're referring to yourself in the second person now? Stop it.

I've been sat at the mouth of my tent, petrified; every inch is solid stone, for what felt like, I don't know, I've stopped bothering to check now, it's moment like this that time starts to mess with me.

I sat and watched the skies bleed their blue dry, as the hulk of inky blackness started to hang heavy. The blades of grass amid the churned earth flickering like a weak breaker wave. The cold is oppressive.

Good is not a word I would use, neither would the word bad be wholly appropriate. It just is.

You couldn't really say the same for...well, other things.

I just hope the others take the hint and...

"Elektra."

I really need to stop thinking that, every time I think it, that happens. Just is my luck.

"What do you want now Faith?"

"Can't you just stop being aggressive for once...".

I glance up. She had an expression on her face, an expression I've never quite seen before. It's not quite irritation, it's not quite concern. I don't know, perhaps it's just me.

"You know me too well..."

"And the sarcasm."

Well that's just not fair.

"So, what is it that you want then?"

"Who says I want anything?"

"How do I know you don't want anything?"

"What?"

"People always want something in this place."

The expression suddenly becomes far more serious. Still not sure what you'd call it though...

"I just wanna talk to you..."

"About what?"

"Its..." she stumbles over her words, "it's about you and White."

"You can dig all you like, there's nothing I'm gonna tell you."

"That implies there could be something you could tell me."

Shit, backtrack, backtrack quickly.

"How do you know that's not just you imagining there could be anything?"

"I'm not trying to dig here or anything, it's just..."

"It's just what?"

"Even you with your ability to miss the blindingly obvious..."

"I'm sorry!"

"...you could see there's something wrong. Everyone can see it, God, everyone can feel it."

"So? What exactly are you saying?"

"You know, I thought it was impossible for your fuse to get even shorter, but it appears that I was wrong!"

I suddenly spring to my feet, the stone binding me down shattering to specks of dust in a mere instant.

"Stop insulting me and get to the fucking point!"

"I wasn't insulting you!"

"Well that's bullshit and you know it!"

"It's just that you can't seem to see when someone is trying help you."

"Help me? How exactly are you trying to help me!"

"Well perhaps if you listened to me for once..."

I suddenly notice that our, little disagreement has started to draw some attention.

I let out an exasperated sigh, "Listen, I don't wanna cause a scene here..."

"Well you're doing a fine job of that..."

"Just get in the tent."

"What?"

"Get in the tent."

"Why?"

"Well it's either that or you can stay out here for the night."

With a snarled mutter, Faith hunkered down a shuffled into the tent. I glance briefly around, adding a glare in the direction of anyone who would sooner prefer a scene before shuffling into the tent myself.

I'm beginning to regret this; it's rather cramped in here. Getting stuck in a cramped place with someone who you're currently having an argument with isn't really my best idea.

There's a couple of moments of irritable silence.

"So, how do you think you can help me then?"

"People notice how aggressive you've become you know..."

"And they haven't notice that already?"

"...and if it wasn't so glaringly obvious you have something to hide I wouldn't even bother."

"Everyone has something to hide around here, it's how it works! And Christ, you above all people should understand that little unspoken rule."

"What."

"You heard me."

"If you're trying to bring Raz into your sordid..."

"Sordid! Fucking sordid?"

"No, that wasn't what I meant..."

"Yes it fucking well was! Don't try to backtrack on me!"

"Will you listen for once in your petty little life!"

"If you wanna start slinging insults around you nosy little shit, I'm game!"

"Nosy? Oh well that does mean you've got something to hide..."

"What did I say before! You accuse me of not listening?"

"Will you just shut your trap!"

"No, I am not getting on the psychiatrist couch for you!"

"Psychiatrist couch?"

"Besides, why would I bare my soul to someone who more closely guarded than Fort Knox?"

"Stop trying to drag me into this, I've got nothing to do with any of this!"

"Au contraire..."

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"...if we are doing vague psychoanalysis here, how about the girl so attached to her brother here, bet Freud would have loved that!"

"You're getting hysterical Elektra..."

"I'm hysterical, fucking look at yourself!"

"...this is all about you and White isn't it?"

My face falls, I feel like I've swallowed so much super glue...

The gamy tiger just tried to force her teeth back in the gaps.

It wouldn't take, of course it wouldn't...

"And what if it is..."

"There's something there, something eating you from the insides..."

So much that blood should pour from my mouth...

"If I were to tell you, you'd get off my back..."

"Promise."

"...and I get to sleep on the warm side of the tent."

"Hang on..."

"Good, I'm glad we're decided."

There's another awkward silence.

"How much do Mike and Gina know about you and White?"

"Not quite sure...depends on how much information Social Services has on what caused us to be chucked in care in the first instance..."

"Lemme guess, same reason right?"

"If we're gonna do this let me do the telling."

"Yes or no."

"...yes..."

"Right..."

I glance down at my sleeping bag, take a deep, long lung full of air...

I haven't even thought about this, let alone talk about it...not quite sure if I really want to.

"So, you really wanna hear the whole truth about this..."

"Stop stalling and get on with it."

I can taste the blood in my throat.


	13. A Missive from Eleven Years Ago

"The whole, the whole thing started, well, around eleven years ago, primary school. White attracted bullies like politicians attract personal abuse...I don't know, I don't quite think I understood how things worked back then. Maybe it's just part of how you are at that age; I've only got my own experience to go on...

But, but even since we first met...God, walking cliché or what? But I kinda became her protector, it's not like anyone in that place would have cared if I hadn't. Probably would have beaten her to a pulp if I hadn't been there."

"Aw, Elektra, I never knew you could be such a sweet heart."

"Shut up, serious part."

"Sorry..."

"But, yeah...we just kinda grew, close, really close when we were little. It's just that we felt different to everyone else, we wanted to different. We didn't want to be like the prissy little girls that surrounded us, you know, the type who aspires to marry a footballer or be a princess, the type who always demands and always gets. It felt like they were coming off a production line somewhere, pink fucking everywhere, developed the ability to judge harsher than you could have thought at the age of six. I didn't wanna be like that, and neither did White..."

"You sure about that?"

"Of course I am! Besides, they wouldn't have anything to do with her. They took one look at her and tossed her aside, like, like...yesterday's jam."

"But doesn't jam store for ages?"

"What did I say before? Anyway, it's not all that important..."

"Did you ever come closer to being like the rest?"

"In retrospect, perhaps I could of; I had all the ingredients I would have needed to become like them. Uncaring family with surplus of money...it got to Melisa sometimes..."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah, she had her moments, done most out of fear I think. I like to think I was the one who got all the guts. As much as I, kinda, well, like her...she had all the moral fibre of a cushion that's been left in the rain for cats to piss on."

"Lovely."

"Mother always had her in her talons back then, I hope things are a bit different now...but again, that's not the point here."

"What is the point then?"

"The point is that, is that when we were little me and White...we felt so tightly bound together. We felt we were two who were, so very similar. We hated our situations and came closer because of it, like it was us against the world. We thought that the entire outside world was the same as the hell hole we found ourselves in...and maybe that's still the case now. I remember, I remember so vividly how many times we got told, or I overheard how inseparable we were, how we became. All I really know though is how damn lonely I felt when she wasn't there, it was nice to have someone there who felt like they were on the same wavelength."

"All sounds relatively innocuous..."

"Yeah, but you seem to have underestimated my family...my lovely mother in particular. We got older, and we started to think we could take greater control over our lives. We changed our names, we started to work out what we really wanted...heh, I dyed my hair. Mother cut it out quicker than breathing...White had done such a god job with it too; I decided to use fake highlights after that, made it slightly easier to get away with..."

"So, was it the rule breaking that got you where you are today?"

"If you think I got, we got chucked into care because we ended up getting banged up or something."

"Well, isn't that what you're implying?"

"No, we just, we just didn't like all those dumb standards, all that stupid fucking keeping up appearances. We never wanted to...cause serious trouble; we just wanted to feel like we had some control over our lives..."

"But you got banged up at some point right?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You were skirting around the question like crazy that's why."

"Well, maybe I did, but White never got caught, she never got far along enough to get caught, but..."

"You're gonna tell me that's not the point again aren't you?"

"Well, yeah, what we did isn't really the important thing here..."

"Then what is?"

"How things changed, apparently we became bad influences on each other; we were _running our families reputations into the dirt_ or some crap like that."

"And were you?"

"No, we weren't, so shut up. We were just; we just became closer, reliant on each other even. Then things started, started to change, I was about thirteen I think...White was always there, it was my job to protect her...I, I started to think..."

_Streaks of black and red, mascara and irritated skin lined her cheeks._

"...I never felt rage quite like it, not before, I had been angry about how they treated her before, but...but..."

_The quiet of the locker room, it bodily pulls the breath from my lungs, White's tiny snuffling sobs, gut crushing._

"_What have they been saying now?"_

_She presses the heels of her hands up against her eyes._

"_White?"_

"Elektra? Elektra!"

"_I'll kick the little fuck's head in!"_

"_No..."_

"_Why not?"_

"_You've already gotten in enough trouble; they'll kick you out if..."_

"_White, I..."_

"_...and that's all my fault..."_

"_No it isn't..."_

"_...I've gotta be stronger..."_

"It's when I realised, I realised she'd been trying to protect me as well..."

"_You don't need to get stronger..."_

"_But I'm such a burden to you; I don't wanna be like that..."_

"_Listen..."_

"_And what about when you're not there to look after me, what the hell do you expect me to do then?"_

_My insides become as heavy as lead, I feel like I slowly being dragged to the floor by rusted hooks and chains._

_White's eyes widen, her eyes glazing over with another slew of salty tears. I guess, I guess I must have grimaced, my face must have fallen or something..._

_I...I..._

_I suddenly realised I have grabbed both sides of her face, it's as if all else has faded into nothing._

"_White?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Promise me; promise me that we'll never get separated?"_

"_You promise that?"_

"_I promise."_

"_I promise too..."_

_She's close, awful close..._

"But, but some little sod saw us in the locker room that day, must have sneaked up on us the little bastard."

"So? Someone saw you kissing White, so what?"

"You've not been listening at all have you?"

"Woah, slow down..."

"Shut up! That little fact spread like wildfire until it eventually reached both of our families..."

"Oh..."

"So that's it? Oh? Both our families could cope, on top of all the other things we had done that apparently were so terrible, with the fact that we were gay...so much so that they apparently _couldn't cope _anymore. We got thrown out faster than you can say _disgrace to the family_."

_I stand; I stand and stare into the cracked sliver which passes for a mirror, in the claustrophobic grey box that passes for a room...in this dark house, a dark house filled with bloodthirsty thugs._

_I've bared the door with a chair._

_Bitter blues and purples, a carpet of hateful flowers spawn in my skin._

_I slowly, gingerly turn around._

_Under my shoulder blade sits a bloody line, a jagged crescent of broken flesh. They beat me into that table good, didn't realise it would break the skin. That's gonna scar..._

_And after all this? You have no idea how much I hate you mummy and daddy dearest, and if you ever find your spine Melisa, please do tell me..._

_But...but White..._

_You broke your promise, you broke your promise you little bitch._


	14. Disconnected

**A/N: Just a little note to say how grateful I am for all the support you guys have been giving me, you're all such lovely people!**

I could lie and say that the camping trip went well, but...I'm not really in the mood for lying if I'm honest, heh, for once.

We managed to get ourselves thrown out after a few days, if you can get thrown out of a field that is. It's all relative I guess, all you really need to know is that Mike's gonna be regretting renting those camping stoves for some time now...

I'm still not quite sure what was wrong with White this time, it's just important that she's a bit better now I guess...not quite sure how I'm feeling at the moment, I've never really thought, or spoken about all those things that happened before...

The coach journey is as excruciating as ever. My skull is already full of a heady, ash-filled fug, all I really need in that situation is a stomach filled full of bubbling acid to match.

Fan-bloody-tastic...

* * *

The company is rather subdued for once when we arrive back at The Dumping Ground, surprisingly really. Every time a trip goes tits up there's normally more agro than this...

Everything just feels, feels sombre, as if the world had been painted with daubs of slimy grey oil paint. Kinda like mud, just cold, liquid misery, you taste clay at the back of your throat.

The house stands taller, would looming be the word? I don't know, everything just feels wrong, that wrong which you can't really classify, it just is.

Like a husk, what remains, what remains can't even be described as a what. It's just bitter silence.

I'm mixing my metaphors here, I've really lost my grip now, can't even form a coherent sentence...

Hang-on.

The sluggish minds of the company seem to be realising it slowly, expelling the travelling fug from their minds, slowly draining away and carpeting the gravel driveway in a layer of claggy vapour.

There's a car parked up on the driveway, and more importantly, a car I don't really recognise.

I would say there was nothing particularity remarkable about it. It kinda looked like one of those cars that should be painted a lurid neon and blasting some bone-shaking tiny hip-hop, but, but it was just black and sombre. But shiny, really rather shiny. Looks kinda like a bloke drives it...

Kinda sinister in its un-remarkableness.

I glance quickly at Mike and Gina.

"...well whose is it?"

"...don't care I just want rid of it..."

"...I don't recognise it at all..."

"...number plates mean anything to you?"

"...why are you asking me..."

"...I don't know I panicked..."

Out of the general scrabble, I suddenly discern a tiny, weak voice.

"No, how can it..."

"Right! Everyone inside! Now!"

* * *

"I think his name's Buttercream or something like that..."

Mike and Gina confined the driver in the office. Well, they haven't called the police, so that's gotta be a good sign...but naturally, everyone has been trying to weasel out as much information about the driver as they can.

Bitched over and dissected, it's how it works

"No, it's Butterworth, Stephen Butterworth I think..."

Ah fuck, you have gotta be kidding...that would explain White's sudden disappearance then.

I think this is the best point to make a quick exit, Christ knows the questions they'll start asking if they manage to put two and two together, if they can even do that...well you know, monkeys and typewriters.

As I sneak off, the remnants of their conversation start to leech off the cold walls.

"...has anyone seen White?"

"...she kinda vanished when Mike and Gina started talking to the driver guy..."

"...she's probably sleeping upstairs..."

"...she still not better is she?"

There's a pause.

"...do you recon..."

"...yeah he must be..."

Of course he's White's brother you bunch of brain-deads.

"...Butterworth? Emily Butterworth?"

Yet another thing we have in common, bloody stupid white middle-class names.

Canned sniggers dog me down the corridor.

I'm almost at the stairs before I hear a door creak; I freeze instinctively, locating the source of the noise.

A distinctive, tall, languid figure emerges from the office; I don't think he's spotted me yet.

He's exactly as my memory recalls, well, my broken mirror shards of memory recall. The phrase _slimy git_ could never be as more appropriate. He's a little less greasy than he was when we last met, lank black hair a little less suspect in its shininess, but he's still every inch the little sewer rat I remember him being. There's something about those little black eyes of his that make your spinal cord squirm.

I could say like a cockroach, but rat is still the most appropriate.

Heh, weird, the sewer rat and the lab mouse...

Stop looking at him Elektra, keep moving before he clocks you...

"Why am I not surprised..."

Fuck. I gotta stop jinxing these things.

"...look at little Mandy after all this time."

I swivel round to face the grease ball, "To what do we owe this honour Stephen?"

"I just here to visit my darling little sister..."

I can't help but snort.

"What? Is something funny little Mandy?"

I bite my lip.

"Oh yeah, I forgot, what was it..."

"Elektra."

"And how is that working out for you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well wasn't it the whole _oh how society persecutes me_ that got you dumped in the orphanage in the first instance?"

"It's not an orphanage..."

"Like the little flea ridden cuckoo you always were."

"Cuckoo! Why the fuck am I the cuckoo here?"

"Because you've done such a good job of not getting in anyone's way or pushing anyone out of the nest..."

"If this is about my sister again you little spunk bubble..."

"She wanted me so bad you know that, she was begging for it and you had to go and cock block me..."

"She was fucking terrified of you, she kept thinking you were gonna try and rape her in the park!"

"Details..."

"And of course a loving brother always tries to sell his sister down the river..."

"Pft, she had it coming, and besides...we all know it was your fault."

"It wasn't my fault..."

"Well who else did she spend so much time with? Who else could have possibly turned her?"

"You know what you are! You're a little cu..."

The office door creaked again.

"Mr. Butterworth, you're only here on proviso, and if you keep insulting Elektra I'm calling the police." Mike growled from behind the little puss ball.

He shoots a cudgelling look at me, "Very well..."

"White's in the quiet room, I'll be joining you..."

"Very well."

The pair start walking towards the quiet room, but there's something I suddenly notice, I notice the crack, the steady cracking of gravel. Someone else is coming up the drive way.

I hear Gina cry out, "Mike!"

His face falls, "What the...why is she here today?"

Gina bustles out into the hall, "I don't know just do something!"

"Elektra, get in the office."

"What?"

The doorbell rings.

"Just get in the office..."

Gina moves to answer the door, I hear a voice.

Why does Sod's Law have to keep screwing me over like this?

A figure enters the hallway, "What is he doing here?"

It's like someone's dropped a nuke of concentrated awkwardness, but perhaps awkwardness isn't right, no...there's too much hate for that, the very air threatens to gouge your eyes out.

Gina's the first to react, "Erm, Melisa, Elektra, why don't you two go into the office?"

Silence responds as we all shuffle into our respective rooms, air still blazing with anger like a gut full of raw chillies.

Silence still reigns after me and my sister sit down in the office

The walls loom and close in, grey oil paint, cold steel nails in the skin...I'm not really sure...

"Why was that little..."

Melisa pauses, searching around for an appropriate insult.

"Tosspot?"

"...yeah...just, what is he doing here?"

"Well..."

Her face falls, "Does that mean Emily's here?"

"White..."

"She is isn't she?"

"Yes, but why should it matter?"

"Mands...I mean Elektra, I was wondering if you'd like to come and visit me and Harvey a bit?"

"You didn't answer my question..."

"I just thought it might be nice since I've managed to get Mum off the scene now..."

"Just answer the God damn question! Why is it so bad that I happened to be in the same Care Home as White?"

Melisa falters, stares at her shoes.

I think that's an answer enough for me, I've put up with this bullshit enough to know what that means.

"Lemme guess, this is like when I thought they wanted me back isn't it?"

"Elektra it's.."

"Oh, it is exactly like that isn't it? You, you all thought you could change me, change White by splitting us up on purpose? You thought you could change us...change me into your perfect little, perfect little doll?"

"Elektra please, this isn't my fault..."

Screaming cuts across my Melisa's babble.

Yell thud scream swear, yell thud scream swear. A cacophony of rage tears through the walls.

The quiet room isn't quite as quiet as it normally is.

"Gina! Gina, get the phone, call the police!"

"Get the fuck off me paddy!"

The ice starts to coil itself around my throat.

I'm on feet, I charge out of the office and career with White...

An angry red mark crawls out over her paper white cheek, five long spidering lines emerging from a central stinging point.

She looks up at me, eyes glazed in salt water.

"This...this is all your fault..."

I can't feel my feet, my hands.

"What..."

"I said, this is all your fault."

Someone's lit a fire in my brain.

"How is this all my fault?"

"You, you were always fucking there, I could have looked after myself you know!"

"No, no you couldn't!"

"Of course you would say that..."

The fire spreads down my nerves, devouring my flesh.

I snap.

"If this was anyone's fault it was yours!"

"How the hell did you work that one out?"

"You came onto me!"

"How, if I'm so damn needy could have I come onto you?"

"Well you bloody did! Therefore, this is your fault!"

"No it's your fault!"

"No it's yours..."

"I hate you Mandy..."

"Well at least we have something we can agree on for once!"

She storms off, attempting to pound the floorboards into dust with every step. I never knew you could climb stairs with such bile...

The fire dies, there's nothing but burnt skin left.

The burn scars that line my insides smart, blaze with pain...but, but I can't feel it...

I just feel, I feel nothing, numb, cold...

Remember, remember when I said that we don't forgive easily...

Yet another thing we have in common.


	15. Nosocomephobia

_The air is damp, your lungs cloy up with water vapour, and God knows what else..._

_My arms shoot out, feeling around in the tar-like dark. The heels of my hands hit slimy, cold tiles, my bare feet sliding across the same tiles._

_A cold breeze slides under my surgical gown._

_My whole skin becomes like gooseflesh, tiny hairs performing a quiver dance._

_Light, I need light..._

_The darkness is awfully...I don't know, it just leers out, no in to me._

_It's like there are darker patches of darkness, everyone an eye driving its gaze into me like a piece of shrapnel._

_Or perhaps a scalpel..._

_Yip yip yip._

_What the hell was that?_

_He he he he._

_And again..._

_Hah ha ha ha._

_It's coming out of the darkness; it's definitely coming out of the darkness._

_Bright painful lights flare on, clinical white searing itself to my retina._

_They're standing there, huddled around me like maggots around rotten meat. Grins of a thousand surgical needles, clad in garments more red than the green they should be. The hyena surgeons._

_I will my bedrock-heavy legs into movement, careering past the gaggle of spotted butchers, knocking over the hateful bastards, making them drop their tools, clattering upon the tiles._

_I career out of the loose-hinged double doors, cries of the hyenas snapping at my heels._

"_Get her!"_

"_Cut her open!"_

"_I bags the heart!"_

"_No I want the heart!"_

"_You can have the lungs..."_

"_I wonder if they'll be all rainbow-y."_

"_We'll only know that if we catch her you bunch of morons!"_

"_Yeah, stop yipping and get her!"_

_Mould leeches it way up the hall walls, florescent tubes above flickering pathetically. The floor is still wet, still slimy..._

_I hear double doors slam open somewhere behind me in the oppressive darkness, I hear the claws of the hyenas kicking up sparks against the tiles, sandpaper tongues lashing out harsh cries, cries that wanted my lungs, my heart, my liver._

_I skid on my heels, diving through a random door._

_I land hard on my stomach, colliding with a rough-cast metal table._

_I hear the masses charge past me in the corridor; I look up and try to take in the surroundings._

_I'm in some kind of storage room, shelves stacked with jars filled with some kind of florescent, green liquid. Large...objects float in the neon green mire._

_I rise to my feet and move towards the shelves. I examine the jars. My stomach starts to snarl and churn, acid rising slowly in the gullet._

_Suspended in each and every jar is an organ, stomachs, ears, eyes, kidneys..._

"_Hey you, over there."_

_I freeze._

"_Hey, hey you, listen."_

_I swear I didn't hear the door open, I swear I didn't. There can't be someone else in here I didn't notice..._

"_Will you stop derping around, I'm behind you!"_

_I swivel around. Set on the shelves behind me sits a jar, a jar containing a head..._

_How can I put this...just, put it this way, the head was still very much alive._

"_What..."_

"_Stop gawping and come closer."_

_For some reason I feel obliged to come closer, coming eye to, ahem, eye with the decapitated head._

"_You know I haven't had any company in here for ages!"_

"_I'm talking to a decapitated head..."_

"_Don't look at me like that..."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Well this is your dream isn't it?"_

"_Dream?"_

"_Yeah...well perhaps nightmare would be more appropriate..."_

"_Well if you know so bloody much then, why don't you enlighten me?"_

"_How can I?"_

"_And that means?"_

"_Well, I don't really exist, you invented me, you invented all of this, the hyena doctors, the whole hang up you have about hospitals and dissection..."_

"_Great now my own sub consciousness is insulting me..."_

"_...pretty fucked up little world you got here..."_

"_Shut up!"_

"_...makes you wonder really. Are you scared of hospitals or does this all mean something..."_

"_Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"_

_Footsteps, or would that be pawsteps...there's something approaching outside._

_I dive under a set of tables covered in a grubby cloth at the opposite end of the room._

_The door creaks open, I glance around the side of the cloth._

_A hyena doctor, exactly the same as all the rest slinks into the room, same maniacal grin plastered across his muzzle. He goes to the shelf..._

"_Woah buddy," the head begins as the hyena takes his jar off the shelf and places it on the metal table at the centre of the room, "you don't wanna be doing that..."_

"_Oh but I do..."_

_With a beat of curled paw he shatters the jar, green liquid pouring out onto the floor. The smell of chemicals stabs me in the sinuses. He moves towards the table I'm hiding under, I cower back._

_The hyena seems to be rummaging about on the table-top; I think there must be surgical tools up there; I can here clattering, sharp steel on sharp steel._

_He wanders back into view, carrying a bone saw, looking upon as if it were a newborn._

"_Hey, hey what are you doing?"_

"_I'm so glad I got dibs on you..."_

_The hyena suddenly raises the bone saw up above his ears, like a villain in a slasher movie. I cower behind the cloth. I hear the bone saw scythe through the air, a wet crunching impact._

_The door slams open, claws skitter across tiles. The cloth is ripped away, surgical tools scatter across the floor._

"_Well well well, look what I just found."_

_Paws lock around my joints and drag me bodily from under the table, down the hallway, into the operating theatre..._

_They slam me onto the slab, holding me in place with their bare paws. A surgeon approaches the slab._

"_Shall I fetch the xenon?"_

"_Nah, this'll be more fun without anesthesia..."_

_Without warning the hyenas leap on me, brandishing scalpels, slashing, gouging at my skin..._

A crash of thunder jolts me hard from my nightmare, letting out a cry of constrained fear.

Heavy-handed raindrops slam themselves against my window as a storm rages out in the sleet-cold night, each raindrop drumming a concrete heavy tattoo on my brain.

A shudder runs through me, I glance around, frenzy taking over.

Faith is sitting bolt upright in bed, arms crossed, stone-cold stare angled in my direction.

"Same nightmare again?"

"How do you know? What is it to you?"

"You keep having these weird nightmares, you keep crying out, shaking, thrashing around like a mad thing..."

"So?"

"What are you dreaming about?"

"Why are you asking me these things?"

"It's just because it had better have been a pretty bad dream for you to have rejected White like that."

"What?"

"You know, you make an awful lot of noise when you're having nightmares, White heard you, she came in..."

I don't like where this is going.

"And?"

"I think she was trying to calm you down, but you made this, this kinda weird noise when she touched you..."

"Weird noise?"

"Kinda like a cat caught in a bear trap, some kinda..."

"Yowl?"

"Yeah..."

"Then what happened?"

"She had this weird, blue screen of death kinda moment...she recoiled and started staring off into the middle distance. Then she bolted out of here quicker than a stabbed rat..."

"Wait, wait..."

"I don't think I've seen anyone with such an expression before..."

I draw back my covers, head towards the door.

"Where you going?"

"To check she's alright."

"I thought you two weren't talking..."

I don't respond as I head onto the landing, pushing open the door to Carmen's room.

Carmen lies half-awake half-asleep, suddenly seeming to realise that she shouldn't really so cold, her rooms shouldn't be so cold...and White...

White lies in a crumpled heap like a child's ragdoll by the window sill, windows torn wide open letting the chaotic rage of the storm into the room.

I'm not sure if she's passed out, not sure how that would be possible if she was...I just don't wanna think about it...

"Carmen! Carmen!"

Her groggy eyes open, "What...what are you doing in my room?"

"Just, just go and get Mike or Gina."

"What's going on here?"

"Just do it!"

Carmen scampers off, her heavy footsteps arousing the whole house, groans echoing through paper thin walls...but...but this...

This...I can't...I can't, just why...is this my fault?

My tongue, my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth...my thoughts jar, cracks spidering throughout...

I have to...I have to stop...no words...no words...


	16. Dead Bones

"What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know..."

"Just what was she trying to prove anyway?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"She really didn't look good you know..."

"Well she can barely go outside without having to wear that massive hoodie; I don't imagine this will have done her any favours."

"Why did she do it then?"

I'm standing just outside the kitchen door, out of sight, listening to the wall of noise within. I can't really bring myself to face everyone else...

"You can't avoid this forever Elektra."

I glance up, to see that Mike had somehow managed to sneak up on me.

"Why, why can't I..."

"Because your past with White started to catch up with you way before now..."

"How did you..."

"Believe me, it was allot easier for me and Gina to work out than you might think."

"What has this got to do with anything..."

"I think this is one of those occasions that those guys need the truth, or who knows what conclusions they'll come to..."

"But..."

"And also, Elektra, I think it's plain to see how much this is hurting you..."

"I don't need to be looked after; I'm not a child..."

"Let me finish..."

"Fine."

"This is not something you needed to let eat you up inside like this, and I, Gina, everyone in there, do not want to let this destroy you."

"Why?"

I think I just caught him off guard, "What do mean why?"

"What do you think I mean?"

"Elektra, it's too early for word games..."

"Why would they care about if something destroyed me or not, what have I done to them?"

"Elektra..."

"Why would they care about someone who just does nothing but make them miserable..."

"Elektra stop!"

I think he just caught me off guard.

"Listen to me, no matter what, you'll be one of us, and that is why we can't let, and you can't let this eat you up inside, we've already lost one of our family, and I can't let that become two...and Elektra..."

I think I know what's coming, "What..."

"I think you owe it to White also."

I can hear it whistle through the air, before hearing the bone-shattering crash, metal upon stone. The impact shakes my core to bloody slush. The realisation drops to the ground like a hippopotamus corpse, breaking and denting the floorboards, peeling skin being gouged away...

Time to tell the truth.

Time to face the hyenas.

* * *

_My ears, my ears are filled with static, static and the thrum of blood._

_Thrum thrum thrum._

_Everything, everything is turning into soup, hot red..._

_Bile and liquid brain spill from my nose, mouth._

_My chest is snared in the steel jaws of a bear trap, teeth pushing, breaking bone and tissue, capillaries exploding into pretty blood flowers._

_I'm drowning drowning drowning..._

"_White!"_

_What..._

"_C'mon darling stay with us!"_

_A voice, kinda familiar...Gina?_

_A metal fist moves to smother me, pulverising me, pushing me deeper into the burning mire._

_Drowning drowning drowning..._

* * *

I round the side of the door frame, Mike following in close step behind me.

If I tell them it will help, if I tell them it will help...please God let Mike be right...

I suddenly become aware of every eye being trained upon me, every eye from the table of dog-tired, dressing-gown clad figures.

It's easy to tell what they're thinking; you better have a good explanation for this...

I move to stand at the head of the table.

Mike speaks, "Listen everyone; I know you're all tired, but something rather terrible has happened to White and I reckon you all deserve and explanation...and I believe the person who can explain this best is Elektra..."

I try to talk before they start bombarding me with questions, but my tongue, my tongue is stuck to roof of my mouth...

Silence.

"So?" Johnny begins, "you gonna explain or what?"

I...I...

"This is all about White illness isn't it Elektra?" Faith asks.

"Yeah..." I manage to mumble before Mike cuts across me.

"As we all know, White is an albino, but..."

I can't let him say this, "...but she suffers from a very specific type of albinism...it makes her immune system very poor, her blood can't clot properly..."

"So?"

"...and her condition can lead to complications in her lungs."

The air of aggression that has hung over the table suddenly melts like butter in a microwave, lies in squirming red puddles on the floor.

"Complications?" squeaked a rather pale looking Carmen.

"What do you mean by complications?" Rick responded.

I suddenly feel numb.

"I think what Elektra's trying to tell you is that White is very susceptible to quite dangerous lung conditions..." Mike added.

"What do you mean by dangerous?" Tee asked.

"I think he means fatal." Frank replied.

The air is suddenly, very, very cold.

"What does fatal mean?" Harry asked.

Nobody quite knows how to respond to that.

Johnny's voice suddenly breaks the silence, "But that's not what's important here."

"Johnny!" Faith snarled, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on! We've all wanted to know what the deal is with Elektra and White..."

"Who is currently being rushed to hospital so have a bit of decorum!"

"Well why don't we get Elektra to decide?"

Every eye flicks back to me.

My anger suddenly flares back into life, "What the hell has this got to do with anything?"

"Oh come on Elektra," Rick groaned, "you go from barely talking to inseparable."

"Yeah, something has to be going on." Tyler added.

Everything glitches, my mind, my heart.

"I...we, ugh..."

Say it say it say it!

Scalpels gouge my skin, bone saws tear at my limbs.

"Me and White, we, um..."

My guts are cut open and spill on the floor.

"I lo..."

I run, skidding on the kitchen tiles, head into the hall and pound up the stairs leaving a confused tangle of voices behind me.

I can't, I just can't...

* * *

_White light, searing, harsh white lights over head, flick, flick..._

_Stabbing at my retina, trying to puncture right down to the brain._

_I can feel the whistle of cold air around me, unforgiving metal beneath me._

"_She very weak and in a great deal of pain doctor..."_

_Is that, another voice?_

"_Hey! You're not rolling her off like that without me!"_

_That voice, that voice I heard first._

"_Who are you madam?"_

"_I am this girl's care worker, so I need to stay with her!"_

"_You'll stay in the waiting room like everyone else, now go, you're blocking up the corridor."_

_Reality fades, pain's talons replace..._

* * *

I don't know how much time has passed; every second feels like an eon, I just lie here, coiled like a cat, blacking out the rest of existence.

Meteors could have fallen, some great flame devoured everything from the sky to the horizon, the dead could have reared from their graves...and I wouldn't know it.

Reality itself could have died, and I, my duvet, my bed could be the only things left, and I wouldn't know it.

"Elektra?"

Evidently not then, so much for wishful thinking.

I don't bother moving, "What do you want Faith?"

"Mike says he's going to check up on White at the hospital, and he asked if you want to come and visit with him."

"I'm fine..."

Reality snaps back, light hits my eyes as Faith pulls my duvet away.

I look up; Faith stares down at me, a disapproving expression plastered across her features.

"Elektra, there is no good in sitting around here feeling sorry for yourself."

"So? Why can't I?"

"Because!"

"Because what?"

"You know I don't need to answer that."

Slowly, ever so slowly, she reached down to me. I pause.

Should I?

I grab her hand.

* * *

I hate, and when I say hate, I mean hate, hospitals.

There's something so wrong about the cold white walls, all sterile and perfectly clean. It's like they're wearing make-up, make-up to hide pockmarks of screams and dissections...

And those outfits the doctors, surgeons and nurses wear, those facemasks...what exactly are they trying to hide? That's what I wanna know...

And the smell, it's like having your lungs wrenched out through your mouth by a twisted wire coat hanger. It's the smell of sickness, infirmary, stifled salt tears, puss and above all death. It covers your skin, like you're a bird caught in an oil slick.

It makes me wanna scratch my skin red-raw, just to get rid of it.

I stare down at my DMs, scuffing them against the uncannily glossy floor, heh, like a petulant child.

"Mike Milligan? Elektra Perkins?"

I look up across the waiting room to see a disinterested nurse leaning out from a pair of double doors.

"C'mon." Mike mumbles beside me.

We follow the nurse through the maze of clean white halls, like we're walking through the cavities of dead bones. Mile upon mile it feels like, and all the same, it looks all the same.

Finally we come to a ward, cheap green curtain drawn round the beds. The deathly silence is only punctuated by the nearly non-existent beep of a machine, or the mumble of a television, or a flem-heaving cough.

The nurse draws us to a bed near the end of the ward, jerks the curtains aside as we enter.

White lies there, her skin and hair merging into the white of the pillow and bed sheets, like there was no-one there in the first place, nothing, nada. The dull glint off the plastic oxygen mask strapped to her face being almost the only thing to tell you she was there. The pulse of the machine, robot's breath. She doesn't move, nor twitch, nor anything. It's like she's made of sacking and straw, not flesh and bone.

Gina sits beside her, hands wrought on the bed side table; she glances up as we enter.

"Erm, hello Elektra, Mike..."

I don't think there's anything that you can say, that I can say that would be appropriate...

So we just sit, sit in the soul-crushing silence of the hospital, not knowing what to say, not knowing what t do...

I've said that I don't know before, but, but I think this is probably...the one time when it really is true.

I stare into the abyss, and the abyss swallows me up.


	17. The Bureaucrats Descend

Time passes; time passes like porridge being poured down a drain.

I spend my time in isolation, I sleep, I eat, I visit the hospital...I wait...

I don't know how many times I've been to the hospital; time's just disintegrated, petered away. My recollection of the past days, week even, is it weeks? It's just, it's just as if my mind has disintegrated into a series of snapshots, out of focus snapshots, each blurrier than the last...

They give me eye ache, headaches when I try to concentrate on them. There's a constant, ever constant dull ache throughout every single inch, right through my finger nails. My veins twitch and writhe, worms under my skin.

I guess I'm just starting to accept it a little though...

My door slams open; I look up to behold that little runt Jody. Hyperactive as per usual.

"Elektra!"

"Didn't you the sign?"

She pauses, "What sign?"

"Ah, then that would explain it."

"What are you going on about?"

"The sign that said no admittance to gobby little brats."

"Oi!"

"And also the one that says trespasser will be shot on sight."

"You big liar, there aren't any signs!"

What makes that funny is that she actually checked.

"Hey, do you wanna hear my news or not?"

"News?"

"Yeah, news."

"You never said anything about any news."

"Yeah I did."

"No you didn't."

"Well...do you wanna hear it or not?"

"Ugh, fine!"

"There's a man down stairs..."

"So you've charged into my room and disturbed me to tell me that?"

"A fat man..."

"Oh, wow, hold the front page!"

"He's from the council..."

"They turn up all the time, why should I care?"

"And he's come to talk to Mike about White!"

Crap.

"Yeah, you didn't expect that did you?"

"Get out of my room."

"What?"

"Get the hell out!"

She finally gets the message and scarpers, slamming my door behind her with a resounding shudder of the brackets.

Do I want to deal with this? It could be anything Elektra; it doesn't have to be anything necessarily all that bad...hah...you're gonna have to deal with this aren't you? Or you're just gonna make it worse in your head.

Fuck.

* * *

As I approach the office, I come across a gaggle of figures, Tyler, Carmen, Rick, Jody, clustered around the office door attempting to dredge some information from the conversations within.

I put on my angry whisper, "What the hell are you lot doing?"

The four freeze and look around, the plainest looks of guilt over their faces.

"Go on, get!"

The four scatter. I wait for them to vanish around the corner or vanish up the stairs before I slowly pad towards the door, softly lowering myself closer to the door.

No wonder they didn't hear that gaggle of morons, the conversation going on within is hardly what you'd call hushed.

"So, what exactly are you proposing here exactly?"

Mike's voice.

"You know Mr. Milligan; I rather do not like that tone of voice you're adopting with me."

Another voice, I guess it must be this fat man Jody mentioned. It's nasal, nasal and constricted, like the man has a vice locked around his voice box. It's irritating and hateful all at the same time. The perfect bureaucrat then.

"I know you Mr. Conrad, if you ever turned up when something good happened it would be a minor miracle."

"How witty of you Mr. Milligan."

"What?"

"And I find that you love to make light of any situation."

"I'm sorry did I just black out in the middle of that sentence?"

"Perhaps that's why you're not fully qualified here to deal with a child with such serious health issues."

"What? What makes me not able to deal with someone like that?"

"The black outs Mr. Milligan."

"I bet you're so much fun at parties."

"Stop joking Mr. Milligan, this is a serious situation!"

"Ok ok..."

"I think you may have worked out that I have come to speak to you about the situation surrounding Ms. Butterworth."

"Yes?"

"Good. I understand that you have had Ms. Butterworth in your care for a few months now."

"Yes?"

"Recently she has been taken into hospital after a freak accident and has fallen ill with a currently unknown condition, most likely to be something along the lines of pneumonia."

"Yes?"

"Good good, so would you say that given this incident you are incapable of dealing with a girl with her condition her at Elm Tree House?"

What.

"What!"

"Oh come on Mr. Milligan, both you and I know that Elm Tree House is full enough."

"But..."

"There are no buts about it Mr. Milligan. You have too many children here and are therefore incapable of dealing with a child in Ms. Butterworth's position."

"You can't do this!"

Too right you fucking can't!

"You have failed do deal with the situation sufficiently Mr. Milligan! So therefore the Council is forced to take action for what is best for Ms. Butterworth. We will be moving her to a specialist care home after she is discharged from hospital post haste!"

"So you're gonna send her off to God knows where without as much as a by your leave!"

"If that is what is best for Ms. Butterworth then that is the action we shall be taking."

"Have you even asked White about this?"

"If I am totally honest, no."

"And, and where is this care home anyway?"

"It's only a few counties over."

"By which you mean?"

"What are you inferring?"

"I know you're lying!"

"Fine! If I am completely honest with you, the care home is in London."

"That's at the opposite end of the country...you can't do this!"

"As far as I am concerned Mr. Milligan, it has been decided! Ms. Butterworth will be leaving after she is discharged from hospital. Good day to you!"

I suddenly become aware that the door I was leaning on has suddenly vanished...and now the ground just punched me in the face.

I spring to my feet out of instinct, and then realise the incredibly awkward situation I have plummeted into.

Mike and a very fat, pig of a man stand staring at me. This, this lump of a man must be Mr. Conrad. With tiny, black piggy eyes leering out from a face pebble dashed in clods of fat. Mud brown hair stuck to his head like duck fluff and a greasy mess of a moustache squalled out from his top lip. His suit was such cheap polyester it would catch fire if you even mentioned fire.

"Who, Mr. Milligan, is this?"

"This is Elektra..."

"You mean Mandy Perkins Mr. Milligan."

I ball my fists.

"Mr. Conrad..."

"What Mr. Milligan?"

"Get out."

"What?"

"I'm telling you to leave now."

"I'm sorry but..."

"Leave! Now!"

With a start, Mr. Conrad began to shuffle off on his trotters, making a series of angry huffing noises, clutching his briefcase to his chest...well, I guess you could describe it as a chest; it's where a chest should be anyway. The front door slams and an engine revs and echoes out into the distance.

The situation in no less uncomfortable with that pig gone.

"Elektra, I'm so so sorry..."

"I don't wanna hear it."

"No, but..."

"I don't wanna hear it!"

It's my turn to storm of as I stomp into the hall, only to behold a clutch of faces staring down upon me from the banister and down the hall.

Tyler's the first to speak, "So? What's going on?"

"They're moving White to another care home."

I almost choke on my words like they're physical entities.

I hear Faith's voice, "What?"

"I said, they're moving White to another care home."

A wall of noise erupts.

"They can't do this!"

"Yeah!"

"Come on calm down..."

"No, they can't do this!"

"We gotta do something about it."

"Why, you were hardly bosom buddies."

"Yeah, well..."

"That's not important here."

"Well, what is?"

"White's a care kid, she's one of us..."

I don't really care anymore, it's not like they can do anything to change the Council's mind anyway.

So then, this is it? Am I standing at the end of all things here? It's not really as, well, soul-destroyingly dramatic as I thought it may be...

Well, life doesn't necessarily act like is does in books does it?

If this is the precipice or not...I don't really care, I don't, I don't...

I give up.


	18. One Last Letter

_Dear White,_

_If you reading this, well, when you'll be reading this, there's no doubt that I won't have the chance to explain this in person. Well, when you'll be reading this, the Council will have moved you to a specialist care home in London, and obviously that means that we probably won't see each other again._

_I'm not entirely sure how you feel about this, we were hardly were on good terms the last time we spoke, so I guess, I guess I won't be angry if you choose to totally disregard this letter. After all, if you really have gone forever, I won't really be able to look after you anymore, and besides, you're not really the child I keep thinking you are._

_That's kind of the point of this letter I guess, there are some things I think that you need to know, and that I have kind of had trouble saying, and if I don't really let you know these things, I think I can only really be described as right royally screwing up._

_We've known each other for such a long time now, we were inseparable all throughout school and I guess that may make you think that we understand each other rather well by now, but I don't really think that is the case._

_I can only really speak for myself when I say that I have massively underestimated you, or perhaps underestimated is the wrong word. I think perhaps that misunderstood may be slightly better. But what I'm trying to say here is that I don't think I understood you as well as perhaps you may have wanted me to._

_I always saw you as someone who needed protecting; you were always so very weak, nobody seemed to really care what happened to you. I think that perhaps, as you've grown older, perhaps you may have come to see me as being too protective of you, and, and I cannot be more sorry if I've treated you like the child you aren't anymore, I'm sorry if I didn't see you become stronger._

* * *

"Hey, hey Elektra!"

"What the hell do you want Jody!"

"It's just that I thought..."

"You thought nothing! Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Erm..."

"Just get the fuck out of my room!"

* * *

_Also, I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I've taken you completely for granted. As I said before, as far back as I can remember, you've always been there, I've always has someone there for me, someone who seems to actually, actually get me, understand me. You've always understood me. And, and because of that, I think that I've never really told you how important you become. How important you are. Well, when I say are, I should probably say were, since, by the time you're reading this you won't be here anymore._

_But that's not the important thing here I guess. What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm sorry I never really told you that in person. I guess it's kind of like how protective I've always been of you; I've always been scared of you doing something stupid or getting hurt, or both that I never really ever told you how much you mattered. And, and that must of made you think that I didn't value you as much as I did. I can't be sorry enough for not telling you this, as I feel, as feel that not telling you has driven you away._

* * *

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Johnny, you know what I'm gonna say..."

"Telling Jody to fuck off like that."

"Since when did you care?"

"You didn't even listen to her when she said she had something to tell you..."

"Out!"

* * *

_But, but probably the most important thing, if you can call it important, that I never got to say sorry for is how sorry I am for never forgiving you. As we both understand, neither of us really forgive all that easily, even with each other so it would seem. Again, I can't really speak for you when I say this but, after we ended up in care I felt so very angry, I hated you even._

_We both promised that we'd never be separated, and we were. My life fell apart, well, what you could call a life, but that's not the important point. Ever since then, it's hard to admit but I have to, I've held a grudge towards you. I was angry, I was scared, I was in a great deal of pain, ever care home I got shunted around to the kids always seemed rabid, they kicked and punched me until my skin turned into a bed of violets. I've the scars to prove it, well, one scar._

_I needed someone to blame. You may think that I should probably should of blamed my lovely mother and father, my spineless sister, anyone but you. But, but I didn't quite see it that way, I was confused, the fact that I was, I am, gay seemed to be the reason why I had been thrown out, and I could only reason that you were the one responsible for that._

_And I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I was so angry at you, I'm sorry I couldn't forgive you, forgive you for something that wasn't even your fault._

* * *

"You know it boggles the mind how ungrateful you can be."

"Faith, I don't have time for this."

"You don't get it do you? All this time..."

"Listen, I don't care what you've got to say..."

"Everyone, everyone over these past few days has been working their damndest for you, and you don't seem to give a shit..."

"Concentrating..."

"Just tell me why you're being like this!"

"Faith! I've had it up to here with your stupid fucking optimistic thinking, we can't do anything, do you get that? Nothing!"

"Fine."

* * *

_But, but of all the things, besides all these long due apologies I've been needing to make, there is one thing which you need to know. If I don't tell you, and this is really my last chance, I think, I think I may, I may not scream, but just fade away._

_Despite, despite everything, despite how fraught, despite how dysfunctional our relationship has been, I want you to know one thing._

_Despite how derpy, how vindictive, how childishly competitive, how illogical, how ignorant, how proud, no matter how much rage you feel towards me._

_I want you to know how, how much fun you are, how well intentioned, how you help people see their good sides, how much care you have to give, how strong you truly are, how you can always make me smile._

_White._

_I lo-_

* * *

"Elektra..."

"For God's sake Mike! Can't anybody ever leave me be in this place?"

"We need to have a word."

"Fine, what is it?"

"You've pretty much locked yourself away for the past week, everyone's really worried..."

"They don't seem so very worried to me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I have people coming in here constantly hanging on my ear!"

"Sometimes people don't display their worry in a logical way Elektra..."

I can't help but give a snort of derision.

"But what you need to also understand Elektra is that everyone, everyone down there is trying their utmost to save White..."

My tongue has tied itself in knots, voice box weaving its pipes and tubes into thick rope.

"So, would you like to come downstairs?"

"No, I'm fine."

My door slowly shuts, the floorboards on the landing squeak.

I look down at the letter...

I don't think I can bring myself to finish it.

The walls close in, squeezing blood from me like juice from a lemon.


	19. The River Rolls On

I sit and watch, watch as day fades from night and night's breath leeches light blue to dark blue. The wheel turns, and turns, stars shift on the great cast iron spokes, the furthest rim of the sky stitched tight to the rubber.

I've watched the storm clouds roll in, black, black and thick smog tarring the lungs of the heavens. All through the deep night's blindness, the dark clouds choke, spitting harsh, cold rain like a cobra spits blood-curdling acid. Flesh charring light carves the air in twain, blue flashes writing my name sake amid the clouds.

But yet, but yet then amid the highest cacophony, the highest tumult of the storm's rage, a glow, a glow crested the horizon. A red, ruddy light emerged over the furthest cusp, the sun, like the heart of a blood orange. Angry yet somehow soft, the seemed to blaze out against the landscape, setting buildings, trees, parked cars on fire.

Slowly, so slowly the dark black fades away, it bleeds away into grey through white. The thick cloud bank dissipates. A thin rain, tiny drops of ice, healing the scars of the storm. The skin becomes like soil, absorbing the rain. A cold mist lingers. The sky now a weak white, waiting for the blue, waiting for day to come as normal.

I watch it all; I watch it all through the plate glass of my window.

The whole world shuffles, drags it feet around me whilst I remain still, unmoving, like a piece of rubble. Night arrives, still here. Morning arrives, still here. The house begins to stir.

I hear Faith beginning to shift, she must be waking up. She's always so still when she sleeps, or maybe I just flail around too much. All subjective really.

"Ugh, God...Elektra, have you be sitting there all night?" I hear Faith grumble.

"You're really beginning to sound like my mother." I respond half-heartedly.

"Well, since you can't look after yourself..."

"And if you're gonna contradict yourself..."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"...you coming down for breakfast then?"

"Faith, shut up."

The world continues, continues to move on without me. Or maybe it's case that I'm choosing to ignore it? I really must be going soft or something. What happened to me being angry, what happened to me being vicious? Now, now I'm about as powerful or as fearsome as a wet sandwich.

The tiger with no teeth is the first to get turned into a rug.

I've been turned into a fucking rug...

* * *

As time passes, and passes, blah blah blah, I suddenly come to notice something.

The house, the house has fallen silent.

Normally, normally you hear the snarls of another petty argument ricocheting up through the wall cavities and floorboards. Normally you can hear the half-rotted boards creek under someone's weight, the television's switching from a full-volume shriek to near deathly silence. You can hear the clatter in the kitchen, raised voices, you can hear life.

But not anymore, not anymore.

Which makes the sound of someone pounding up the stairs almost deafening.

My door creaks open, a tentative creak.

I look over.

"What do you want Faith?"

"Nice to see you too."

"Just answer the question."

"You know this is my room too..."

"If you haven't got anything to important say then don't bother speaking at all."

She pauses, rolls her jaw in frustration.

"Elektra..."

"Is the house on fire?"

"No."

"Have we been attacked by rabid wolves?"

"No, but..."

"Has the zombie apocalypse started?"

"Elektra shut up!"

I freeze, my jaw locks up.

"For once in your life will you just listen to me?"

Charming, real charming.

"Well then? Spit it out."

She sighs, "It's just, it's just...come with me I wanna show you something."

"Can't you just tell me what it is?"

"No, you have to come with me."

"Fine, I'll come with you..."

I quietly follow Faith out of my room, trudging through the house's silence. I can't help but wonder where the hell everyone's gone, has the zombie apocalypse hit? God, I sound like such a moron. Also, I swear to God that this place was never this clean before, or was and I just never noticed it?

I still feel silence's yoke as I follow Faith outside. She pauses by the steps to the lower garden.

"Go down there..."

"Aren't you coming with me?"

"No, I think you need to face this yourself."

Hang on...

"_Face this_, you never said anything about _facing_ anything."

"Just go."

I let out an exasperated sigh, "Fine then."

I slowly make my way down the concrete steps, feeling Faith's eyes boring into the back of my skull.

The air feels cold, the ground wet underfoot, I reach the lower garden.

A figure stands out in the centre of the lawn, bundled up against the frigid air, carefully supported on two dull metal and plastic crutches.

Is...is...

"Hello?"

The figure turns around.

"White?"

"Elektra?"

We move towards each other slowly, staring at each other as if we were scared the other was nothing but an illusion, a mirage brought on by the heat of the desert.

I'm the first to speak, "White, what are you doing here? I, I thought you were..."

"Erm, no...I got told, I got told when I started to become a bit more lucid that I was gonna get moved to another care home..."

"Ah..."

"But then...time passed and I found out that your lot had been," she smiles slightly, "going against the Council, trying to convince them to let me stay..."

Faith was right, I really have been so very very selfish...

"Oh..."

"I don't quite know how they did it, but they did..."

"What?"

She smiles, "I don't think I'm going anywhere, put it that way."

We stare at our shoes, unsure what to say.

But there is something, something I need to know.

"Why did you do it?"

Her shoulders fall.

"Well, why did you do it?"

"E-Elektra, I'm sorry, I so sorry..."

"No, no you don't need to be sorry..."

She looks me straight in the eye, "That's bullshit and you and I both know it."

"Well if anyone around here needs to be sorry it's me..."

"No."

"No? What do you means _no_?"

"Well what do you think no means?"

"Well I don't know!"

"You just said no! You gotta know what it means!"

"I said know, not no for Christ's sake!"

"Just shut up and listen!"

Her shoulders shudder as she takes in a deep breath, "I did it to try and spite you and I'm so sorry, I've acted like such a little wretch to you."

I don't quite know how to respond. The few sparks in my belly fading into crumbling ashes, staining the lining of my stomach with a fetid grey.

"And, and I'm sorry for all the other shit I've put you through, I've been such a burden...and I've contradicted myself so much. I've always expected you to look after me and yet I keep telling you that I'm not a child who needs looking after..."

My mind jars.

"And you've put yourself in danger just to spite me..."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I can be so stupid...and, and..."

"And what?"

"I'm sorry for never forgiving you."

The statement falls with a hefty thunk.

"Ever since we got thrown into care I've held this stupid petty grudge against you, thinking you were the one responsible for all this, and I, and I could never let that go. I've acted so terribly to you for something that wasn't even your fault!"

I think it's time for me to come clean.

"White...I think I need to tell you...some things."

"What?"

"I need to tell you, tell you how sorry I am. I'm sorry for the fact that I haven't really treated you with the respect you deserve...and for not forgiving you either."

More silence.

The truth, the truth which has hung so damn heavy over our heads and hearts for so long, like some comedy sixteen tonne weight, or, perhaps more appropriately, that gigantic hooked blade from _The New Nightmare_.

But now, we stand in some desiccated wasteland, the shadow of life after a long wrought war. The earth lies like an old burn scar, flesh churned into great distorted rivulets of twisted muscle, skin. The truth lies about us, shattered ribcages and discarded teeth.

"Elektra?"

"White."

"Do you forgive me then?"

I, I don't know how respond...can I forgive her? Is there anything to be forgiven...

"I...I..."

It's lodged like a fish-hook, the rusted metal set deep into my throat.

White glances up at me, "Please."

"I, I can't do something just because you want me to..."

Her eyes move back to the ground, "It's ok, I understand, I have been such a jerk an all..."

"No, no that's not what I mean."

"What do you mean then?"

If there's one time I need to put things right...in the right words I mean...

The words come to me, "Would you forgive me?"

I watch as White's eyes widen, watch as the words catch in her throat as well.

"I guess, I guess...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you that."

"Kind of a hard question, when you think about it."

"Yeah, kinda..."

"But there is one thing."

"What?"

"I'll forgive you as long as you forgive me."

But know, but know as I think it over...I would, I'd forgive her a thousand times over.

She suddenly tackles me, pulling me into the strongest hug she can manage, "Th-thank you, thank you so much."

Time slows to infinity. I realise how warm White feels. I find myself coiling my arms around her shoulders. She really is awful close. She looks up.

Time stops.

_I love you White._

_I love you Elektra._

Time blazes back into life by cheers and catcalls, we break apart from the kiss. I swivel round, trying to locate the source of the noise only to see a crowd of familiar faces gathered on the steps. So that's where they've all been hiding. I hear White starting to giggle beside me.

I look up and then I suddenly realise. All the anger, all the embarrassment I should feel is simply, not there. It bleeds out of my feet, leeching deep into the earth whilst the soothing mist, the dying breath of the cold rain, bleeds in. The infernal rage deep in my gut fades, I feel, I feel free...I feel free for once.

I realise something else, I'm smiling.

This moment, this strange, strange moment, as I stand here, everything seems to stretch into infinity. Time, time becomes as an amber stream, water as liquid gold and sunlight. I stand amid the tide.

But the tide, the tide no longer flows against me.

It laps around my ankles, soft, no longer trying to devour me in the current like the hungriest of demons, in the jaws of The Beast himself.

The amber water washes against me, taking with it, taking with it everything, all these things which have dogged me all this time.

We stand caught in the tide and it washes away all our demons, like ink blots on paper.

We're finally free.

* * *

**A/N: Just a little note to say thank you to all you guys who have supported me through the writing of this story, I've really apriciated all your lovely words. Thanks very much for reading my fanfiction, I really hope you've enjoyed it. You've all been awesome.**


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